The Meaning of Fear
by LunaBell08
Summary: When Pitch Black meets a curious four year old named April, he encounters a question he had never been asked before: What does fear mean? In attempts to teach this little girl some frightening lessons, he finds himself wondering what exactly he had gotten himself into. [Family/Friend/Guardian] [W/Guest Starring Guardians]
1. Confusion

A/N: Now, this story is going to be written in a set of chronological drabbles. I know drabbles are supposed to be easy-going and around a hundred words or so, but I can't help but write a lot. So some chapters will be a little longer then usual, and others will be sort of short.

**_Disclaimer can be seen on profile_**

I do not own MicrosoftWord and the writing program I use does not have grammar/spell check! Any info on mistakes is encouraged so that I may fix them! Thank you in advance :)

_The Nightmare King has lived a long, long time. But with each new era comes a generation of weird, new people. As time moved on, Pitch learned and accepted that some believe in the Boogieman, and some just don't. However, he is soon going to find out that others are just really, really strange._

* * *

The Meaning of Fear

**Confusion**

_'Twas the night of All Hollow's Eve_

The Nightmare King's favorite time of the year. It was that time of the year when the Man in the Moon - or even those blasted Guardians - had little-to-no control over what he does and what he does best. This holiday was _his_!

Because no matter what most children were told, no matter how brave they claimed to be, the slew of horror movies and spooky stories told during the month just filled them with paranoia, and _fear_. Yes, he knew fear was but a choice, grown from a mere thought that could easily slip past a child's mind when they learned to overcome it or have any sense of safety. But Halloween? Oh, it was his form of euphoria. An all-you-can-eat feast. It brung out their fear and grew, festering inside their tiny little minds until they found themselves screaming in the middle of the night.

Of course, Pitch had never been as powerful as he was two years previously, nearly bringing the Guardians into extinction as he convinced the children of the world to no longer believe. It's just that this particular holiday was probably the only reason he was still alive or had any power at all.

And the Guardians can't do anything about it because, hey, these people _wanted_ to be scared. They _wanted_ to feel the fear he inflicted upon them, and it was the sole reason that Halloween even existed!

If Pitch was any other person, he would probably skip to the destination he had in mind. But he wasn't, and instead stalked through the dark corners of the night, silently relishing in his excitement.

The first place he planned to visit was an old camping cabin just outside of the small town, where a party of idiot teenagers/young adults were spending the night.

* * *

With an annoyed sigh, April kicked her feet against the hard, dirt ground. She stared out into the dark surrounding forest, silently wondering how long she could hide there before her nanny finally noticed her disappearance.

She turned back, sitting at the edge of the yard, and watched the various teens either sit/dance drunkenly around the large fire, morph into small groups around the porch, or walk in and out of the cabin with some kind of food or drink in hand.

Surely her father could have been smart enough not to hire a young twenty-something nanny with an actual social life, right? What with being left alone for the third time during the new nanny's first week (rotating nannies were common, for one reason or another), April was actually surprised a stranger hadn't come and snatched her up for ransom.

To have a mere four year old think of these things at all was actually quite sad. So, with another sigh, April dipped her hand into her half-filled bucket of Halloween-treats and munched on the first chocolate she could get her hands on. She swayed her head from side to side, thinking of anything she can do to ease her boredom.

It wasn't long before she heard a bunch of girly giggles behind her. Ah, there Nanny was now. A short, scrawny girl with smeared vampire make-up and fake, but washed-out blood on the corners of her mouth. Her eyes were lined with a dark, fading black color. Nanny said she was supposed to look 'scary'.

At the word, April tilted her head. Halloween was what people called a 'scary' holiday; it was a word she had heard many times throughout her life, but never really understood the meaning to. Did _scary_ mean, 'to scream?' Because she sure saw that a lot. Especially when she went on the kiddie roller coasters at carnivals and fairs and the other little kids her age would cry.

She scrunched her nose at that and instinctively rubbed her ears. Jeesh, they hurt when people screamed near her.

_Well,_ she thought idly, looking down at her own Halloween costume. _Would I be considered as 'scary'?_

A fluffy pink skirt ended below her knees, covering half of the leggings she wore to keep warm. Her hot pink winter-jacket was covering her top, and long, white bunny ears were perched on the top of her curly blonde head. She chowed down on a mini _kit-kat_, remembering the reactions of people who saw her in her costume for the first time. They cooed and awwed. But they didn't scream. Did that mean she wasn't scary?

The voice of her nanny brought her out of her thoughts.

"I have to take her, her father would _so_ cut my pay if he hears I lost her again!"

"Ugh!" another girl scoffed, but keeping a giggling smile on her lips as she flashed a look at the two boys following them. She kept her voice low. "But don't you think it would be too scary to take her on the trail with us? People are going to jump out dressed as monsters and ghosts - she'll ruin it if she ends up crying! C'mon! I am _not_ letting a little kid ruin my shot at clinging to Austin on the Haunted Trail!"

Nanny waved her off. "Oh please, it's no 'big! April doesn't scare easily, she might be a little slow to get what's going on. "

If the child spoken of even knew what it meant to be 'slow' in the way her nanny was speaking, she would have been insulted. She didn't like screaming! Especially if she really didn't have any reason to! That didn't make her slow! Just . . . very confused!

Nanny continued, "I mean, it's not like she's Amelia Gale. God help us all if she were,"

The other girl rose an eyebrow. "You mean your neighbor at your apartment? The one who is supposedly afraid of her own shadow, you've seen her walk out her door probably once or twice?"

"That's the one!"

By this time, the two girls, followed by the boys, had reached April. Her nanny kneeled with a smile, digging her hand into the pumpkin-head candy bucket as she did so.

"Hey April, you ready to go on a walk with us? It'll be fun!" She sang, as if the Haunted Trail the party set up was nothing more than a nature walk.

April couldn't help but smile, completely ignoring her stolen candy and dusting her self off as she stood. Yes, anything to keep her from just sitting here!

One of the guys frowned. "We're taking a little kid with us?"

The giggly girl from before quickly stepped into his line of site. She wrapped an arm around his and grinned. "Oh, don't worry Austin! Jess said April doesn't scare easily," she turned with a stern look at the nanny. "_Right_?"

Laughing nervously, the nanny April understood to be named 'Jess' now grabbed her hand. Her name was Jess . . . Huh . . . That was nice to know. Because April was going through a cycle of nannies every so often, it was hard for the four-year-old to keep track of their names.

Wait . . . What was her nanny's name again? . . . Oh well.

* * *

April was cold. And hungry. And she felt a little grouchy since it was way past her bedtime. But stupid Nanny just had to make her walk out into the freezing cold forest trail with a screaming psycho woman.

Every once in a while, someone would pop out of the bushes, making the weird girl (who she learned later to be named Sarah) cling to the red-headed boy's arm and scream loudly.

_"Protect me Austin!"_

_"OMG we're going to die!"_

_"Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod!"_

Even her Nanny, who would jump at the slightest swish of wind, or rustle of the bushes, was getting annoyed.

And April continued walking on. The only things that really went through her mind for the past thirteen minutes was: Her legs hurt, her feet felt a little numb from the cold, and her candy was eaten by the other guy who smelt funny. Plus, the people who jumped out of the bushes and screamed _'Boo!'_ or _'Roar!' _were just plain _loud_.

_'Obnoxious!'_ her mother would say in such situations. It was a big word that was said so often when her mother spoke of work (or her father) at home, that even April could say it without much difficulty.

A ruffle of the bushes and leaves on the ground was followed by somebody jumping in front of the group, wearing a bed sheet over his head.

April scrunched her face at the oddity as Sarah, once again, screamed and cowered into Austin's side.

"AHH! OHMIGOD! SAVE ME AUSTIN!"

Ugh! That was _it!_

With a stomp of her foot, stopping her nanny in her tracks, April turned around with a glare.

"Shut _up_!" she yelled. "You are so _loud_!"

Even the ghost seemed frozen in place.

Sarah's face turned a bright red in the moonlight. Not because she had taken to heart that the four-year-old just mouthed off to her, but because Austin was _laughing_.

"Excuse me?" She gasped. "You're so disrespectful! How dare you speak to me that way! Right Austin? . . . Austin . . .?"

the group turned to the boy in question, only to find him wide-eyed and shaking.

"M-M-Mo . . . Monster . . .!" he squeaked.

"What are you talking about? He isn't _that_ scary," Jess said with a roll of her eyes. She turned to the bed sheet-covered boy, only to freeze as he too dropped the act and backed away slowly.

It seemed to spiral from there.

Because he screamed.

And then he ran.

And then April tore her hand out of her nanny's grasp to cover her ears.

A dark shadow loomed passed the struggling moonlight, leaving just enough for the eye to see. Yellow slits for eyes peaked through the dark. A mouth with razor sharp teeth emerged and clamped shut, creating loud echo of slices split to their ears.

Each person saw a different thing - and with their small brains finally clicking into action, a series of more screams had followed two seconds after the first. Austin fell to the ground, attempting to crawl away from the area as Sarah and Jess took off in a direction off the trail. The ghost boy's eyes rolled to the back of his head before his body collapsed to the ground, and the other boy who came with the group . . . left a cloud of dust in his path.

"Such weak-minded people." A dark voice chuckled. "Even at such an age, this night still gives them the mind of but a mere child."

April shivered at the sudden gust of wind and lightly nudged the fainted boy with her foot, briefly wondering if she should take the bed sheet he was wearing for warmth.

"Oh look," the dark voice said softly again. "An actual child on such a dark, eerie night. Will you not run?"

April turned to the owner of the voice. His face was twisted into an odd expression, one she usually saw when her father was on the phone and yelling about something from a rival company. And he was wearing . . . a black dress? Or was it a robe? But why outside in this weather? And his skin was so pale with his eyes glowing a bright golden color. Maybe it was his costume, and his pale skin was just make-up, like Nanny had. And his hair . . .

She blinked once . . . twice . . .

"Your hair is pointy!" she giggled, pointing up at the man.

Pitch frowned.

"You can see me, and yet you do not run?" he asked.

April made an odd motion with her hands, her fists by the side of her temples before expanding them while stretching her arms. "Wah-PSSSHHH! They're like a chicken butt! Mister, how you get your hair to stay up like that?"

It took a good three seconds before Pitch frowned, nearly slumping his shoulders in disbelief. What? So screaming? No ounce of fear in the child's eyes? Instead, this girl, no, this _child_ dare stand before the Nightmare king, continuing to make a fool of his dashing good looks? Did she not see the grown-ups run and scream?

"Little girl," he said darkly, evaporating into a cloud of smoke and swooping in close, bending to the child's height. "How is it that you can see me? Do you not fear me?"

April stopped her ridiculous mockery of the Boogieman's hair for a second, her hands freezing mid-air before dropping to her sides.

_Do you not fear me?_ he asked. She thought about this.

Fear. A word she never seemed to understand. Maybe . . . just . . . maybe . . . this man could answer the question other grown-ups merely scoffed at?

She tilted her head. "Mister, what does 'fear' mean?"

Pitch Black had been the Nightmare King for a _very_ long time. He was the Boogieman. The man who brought you nightmares; he's the monster in your closet and made creeky noises in the middle of the night. He had seen many things, met many different kinds of creatures and people. But never, ever, in either of his lives - both past and present - had he been this stumped before.

What is the meaning of _fear_? This child had asked.

No, he wasn't just stumped. Now . . . now Pitch Black was just _confused_.

She can see him, but doesn't even know the meaning of fear?

April shuffled her feet slightly, swinging her hands back and fourth by her sides as the man just stood there, staring at her like he had just seen bunny ears sprout from her head.

Oh! Maybe he was wondering if her ears were real! People have been telling her all night how much of a cute bunny she looked tonight!

"Don't worry, Mister!" she said happily, smiling as she carefully slid the bunny ears off her head. "The bunny ears are fake! They didn't grow from my head, they're not real! Promise!"

* * *

A/N: Oh April, April, April. Even for a four year old you are as clueless as ever. Hahaha!

I hope you guys liked it! This is my first ROTG fanfiction, so hopefully I don't make Pitch Black OOC. I hope to make this story enjoyable, humorous and just plain fun! But to do that, it would be even better if Pitch was in character. So if anyone has any suggestions, they are welcome! And please inform me of any mistakes, I'll fix them ASAP!

Now, there are a lot of fics out there where the main Oc can see the Holiday spirits, but don't believe in them. This is not one of those fics, and will be explained later. For those who know me, I know, I know, I'm struggling with my other stories as it is, but hey! My life is finally settling down and I'm in my new apartment with my fam. Also, I have the next few chapters written down already! *throws out confetti* it also helps that I know exactly where I'm going with this story and had a great time jotting down the plot and events of each chapter.


	2. Superior

_AN: _I haven't read the original books the _Guardians of Childhood_ yet, but I know enough about Pitch Black to put in some certain . . . _references_ in this story - only one detail being a sort of spoiler for anyone who wishes but hasn't read the books. But that will be coming much, much later. For those who have read the books, I'm sure there will be one question hanging on your mind about this spoiler, and may be pretty shocked when its revealed in the end. However, I'm not going to go exactly by it, instead I'm going to be twisting it a little.

_**Special Thanks To:**_

**Abby-Flourite:** I'm so happy you like the story so far! Thanks so much!

**Frost:** Okay, good, lol. I know Pitch is supposed to be the big-ol-scary Nightmare King, but I don't believe he would ever do anything bad like hurting a child. I haven't read the books yet (still trying to find them since they disappeared after Christmas time) so I wasn't sure. Thank you and I'm glad you enjoyed the first chapter!

**_- For being my first reviewers!_**

* * *

_~x~_

_The Meaning of Fear_

_~x~_

* * *

**Superior**

_In a series of fortunate events . . ._

Pitch had evaded the Sandman's eye. He ducked into the shadows of an alley, crawling through the dark crevices of the walls and blending into the corners.

With an annoyed sigh, Pitch waited for a signal from one of his Mares to know when the coast was clear. It had been getting harder since the night of Halloween to move around, especially since the small children slowly forgot all about the scary monsters that were supposed to be hiding in their bedrooms.

This happened every year, and though Pitch didn't have to like it, he knew his power dwindled as the days passed until they were normal once again. Oh, how he missed the Dark Ages at this time. The days when everyone, adult and child alike, were filled with nothing but fear. He was so powerful, and the dark energy that came from said fear was like a never-ending feast.

_Stupid Moon,_ Pitch thought childishly, resisting the urge to follow the thought with his tongue sticking out at the offending space-object.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. It could have just been his imagination (and it was, the man had nothing to go by considering that he never really had someone to rant to) but he swore that he could just _feel_ the Man in the Moon laughing at him. Mocking him from the safe distance.

It was a good thing the children in the world increased as the years went by. The humans were populating the Earth as if they had nothing better to do, and with more children came more work for the Guardians. It didn't happen as often as Pitch would have liked, but sometimes they would slip. It's not like they could keep an eye on every child at all times. In fact, the Sandman was pretty much his only worry, since his abilities stretched on for miles and miles, making him seem as if he were in several places at once.

Jack Frost, the newest and most annoying Guardian, spent most of his time in his hometown; using all his spare time to be with his first believer as much as he could. One year ago, one of those children who fought by the side of the Guardians had woken up, and stopped believing. What was her name again? Pepper? Pipper? Pitch didn't know, nor did he really care.

It was an eye opener for the young Guardian, and when Frost wasn't busy with his winter duties, or patroling near the year-round snowing areas, he was savoring his moment of bliss. The possibility that his best friend would grow up and no longer believe, scared him.

The white-haired brat should consider himself lucky to be believed in at all! To be the only other spirit to know the Nightmare King's pain, and to fly away with followers of his own later on was just . . .

A soft hiss escaped Pitch's lips as he ducked out of sight once again, flattening himself against the brick wall and disguising himself as a dumpster's shadow. Golden streams of sand, taking the shapes of butterflies, unicorns, and other gooey childish things, slowly slipped past.

Ah, the Sandman knew he was near.

* * *

April sang softly to herself, playing with the rabbit-doll in her lap as the movie played in her room. She sat on her pink carpeted floor, and though she did enjoy the fish movie plenty of other times, she didn't really feel like paying attention.

It had been two weeks since the Haunted Trail incident on Halloween. It wouldn't have been a big deal, except for the fact that her nanny got fired. It wasn't because she had left April there for a short time before gathering the courage to travel back and get her. It was mostly because the cops had been called and the entire party had ended in a big mess.

With April's father being a big business man and a reputation hanging on his neck, he couldn't have problems like that rise again. He couldn't afford to have the media mention the irresponsible nanny he hired to watch over his four year old daughter. Oh, the horror he would face in the public if that had happened!

But none of this travelled through April's thoughts like the spikey-haired man did. He never answered her question about the meaning of fear, and after trying to assure him that her bunny ears weren't real, he had disappeared shortly before her nanny had come back to get her. So, with another sigh, April was yet again left without an answer.

The small television in her room buzzed, leaving an annoying echo in the little girl's ears before flickering slightly. The blue fish had just started her swimming song before the screen went black. April blinked and frowned. She wasn't finished watching her movie . . .

The light above her began to flicker, before it too went out.

_Great_, she huffed angrily. The lights went out! And it was probably because of the stupid wind! The last time the lights went out when no one flipped the switch, her nanny told her in a thick accent that rolled the R's, that the weather, like the rain or the wind, was fighting with the cords that kept them on. Stupid weather! Couldn't they just get along?

Normally, the nanny would come up at this time to make sure she was okay. But this new nanny wasn't here yet. Was she sleeping?

_Now what?_ April thought, listening to the gust of wind fly past her window. She felt her way around the floor, being careful not to bump her head on her bed frame as she reached for her purple Barbie flashlight. It was small, but it might have been just enough for her to see and maybe she can make her way to Nanny's room downstairs.

April nearly dropped her flashlight in surprise, feeling the chilly brush of wind run through her as her window slammed open, and then shut again. That was odd, she thought. Her window was usually locked, how could it open?

She shined her light at the window, seeing nothing but darkness and other dim street lights - wait, what was that?

A sparkling figure, one that resembled a pony in a lot of ways, just ran passed her window! She ran forward, hoping to catch another glimpse of it again, and jumped onto her bed.

_Curious_, she thought, using the word her 3rd nanny used when things didn't seem to make sense. What would ponies be doing, galloping in the air outside her window?

It ran by again, making April gasp in surprise - she nearly missed it! The pony was very big and sparkly, with black and silver-ish sand trailing under it's hooves and had bright yellow eyes. It did that really pretty pose she saw horses do in pictures or in movies, standing on it's hind legs and letting out a beautiful horse-y sound. It gave her a small, two second glance, and galloped away.

"Pretty!" she gasped again, her face almost pressed flat against her window as she rocked up and down on the bed. But what was it running from? She sat there for another minute, waiting for it to gallop by once more.

A loud creak from behind her captured her attention. Nothing would have distracted the young four year old from having a chance to see the pretty pony again, but as stated before, April hated loud noises. And in this quiet room, the creek of a door was _really_ loud.

She was still wondering when her father was going to fix that stupid closet door! It was one of the reasons she hated dressing herself in the morning when the nanny decided to sleep in. Her door always made that annoying sound!

The fact that the door was opening on it's own didn't seem to bother April as she carefully climbed off her bed. She shined her flashlight at the small opening, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. Her princess backpack hung on the doorknob, rocking slightly from the movement. Curious, and without hesitation, April swung the door open, thus causing her to shine flashlight directly into a pair of golden eyes.

* * *

Pitch hissed for probably the fifteenth time that day, shielding his eyes from the offending light. "Turn that blasted thing off!" he ordered. The light lowered, and his eyes adjusted.

He had been running from the Sandman for nearly an hour. So it was suffice to say he was out of breath, and out of energy. When he finally found a blind spot from the Sandman's foolish dreamlings, he took it without hesitation - using a few of his 'Mares as a distraction to make his escape. How cowardly he felt; having to run. Of all the things he imagined himself doing, it was never this.

Ever since his defeat two years ago, things have never been the same. He managed to bring fear back in ways it was never before - but his power will never compare to back than. Oh, how he missed the Dark Ages . . .

He gazed at the tiny girl shining a flashlight into her closet, and though Pitch was never one to be surprised (at least, admittedly) he immedietly recognized the little girl from the forest trail that Halloween night two weeks ago. The one who asked him such daft question about the meaning of fear. _This is the future generation of our planet,_ he thought bitterly, not liking his current situation at all.

He never did get the chance to think about the girl and her odd question after that first meeting. Heck, who would? What child didn't know the meaning of fear? Sure, there were those who didn't feel fear, at least, as much as he would like them to. But they still knew what it was and what it meant.

"Mister Porcupine-Head!" The girl cheered, widening her closet door.

_Perfect._ This was indeed the little girl who made fun of his hair - but Porcupine-Head? Was this child out of her mind!? Did she not know who he was?

He decided not to dignify the girl's choice of words with a response, instead stretching himself taller, to seem bigger, and posed in a threatening manner. His eyes of liquid gold narrowed, shining brightly.

"Little girl," he growled, leaning in closer until he was face to face with her. "I am the Boogieman! You. Must_._ _Fear_. Me!"

It was the first time a child was able to see him, and reacted the way this girl had.

She giggled. And then proceeded to poke his nose with her tiny finger.

"You have a big nose!" She said, followed by another stream of giggles.

_Of course,_ Pitch sighed internally, lowering his arms and straightening.

It was silent for another moment. The lights began to flicker back on, and Pitch could finally have a good look at the room he resided in. He blanched at the color, wondering if the girl had enough pink in her room.

The walls were a creamy white, lined at the top and bottom with bright pink designs. Her large four-poster bed was against the wall on the far right, just below the window, and sat across the shelf holding a TV. Pink, pink, and more pink. Sickening.

He nearly sighed in relief when he saw that the nightgown the girl was wearing was yellow with green flower on the front. Instead of the tight blonde curls she had for that ridiculous costume she wore, her hair hung down on her shoulders in large, softer curls.

Finally after a long, awkward five minutes of staring at each other, the girl spoke up.

"Mister Porcupine-Head -"

"My _name_," he growled. "is Pitch. Black. I am the Boogieman. The Nightmare King! I strike fear into the hearts of annoying little children like _you_!"

He noticed the little girl pause at the word _fear_. She tilted her head, her nose scrunching up in a way that Pitch could only guess meant she was thinking.

"Oh!" She finally gasped, dropping her still-lit flashlight on the ground and clapping her hands together. "Mister, did you come find me so you can teach me what fear means?"

Pitch scoffed and crossed his arms. Such a thing for a child to say! As if he would waste his time. As if she didn't feel _fear_ before. Was the child broken?

He opened his mouth for a sourful retort; to tell this young girl that she was a small child with no sense, and of course she knew what fear was.

But something stopped him.

Was it the look in her eyes? Those round, fern green eyes filled with _wonder_ and _hope_. She must have believed in Santa Claus, and of course the Easter Bunny (from what he could tell, the Easter Bunny was a must, judging by her rooms . . . decor . . .) so she knew of the Guardians. But what of him? What did she know of the Boogieman?

The Guardian's influence must have been spreading fast. Because if this child truly didn't know what it meant to fear, and yet she can still see him, he knew he was in trouble. Oh, bless whatever force of the universe helped him realize his soon to be ultimate doom! For guiding him to this one child who gave him possibilities to change everything!

And what's more, was that this child can be a spark. Not just any spark, _thee_ spark. When she really begins to discover the frightening experiance of meeting the one and only Pitch Black, she can tell the others. She can get others to believe in him! To not only fear the Boogieman as a figment of their imagination, but to spread his existance far and wide!

This is his chance. He would be superior. He is superior! Especially in the face of this foolish little girl who dare challange the name of fear!

So, Pitch grinned a venomous grin.

"Why, yes. I will . . . teach you the meaning of fear. State your name, child."

"I'm April!" she cheered, giving him a small salute as she did so.

In an attempt to distract himself from rising annoyance at the child's lack of common sense, Pitch slowly picked up the discarded flashlight.

"To start things off," he said, ignoring the wide-eyed and apparently happy expression the girl carried. "Are you afraid of the dark?"

With a snap of his fingers, the lights blacked out.

". . ."

It was supposed to end there. Usually such a dramatic line would end a chapter there, wouldn't it? Wrong. Pitch was once again met with the shine of light straight into his eyes. He flung the flashlight he held away and he shielded himself.

"Gah!" he gasped.

"Nightlight." April said dully, holding the round, moon-shaped electronic in her hands.

Pitch growled, disappointed with that simple and yet still confused expression on her face.

"Mister Nightlight, how can you teach me what fear means if I can't see?"

"The point was to be in the dark, you insolent -" he paused, his clawed hands frozen in the mid-air.

"What did you just call me?"

April fiddled with the round light before casually setting it on the edge of her bed. "Nightlight." She said, as if the name had no meaning at all.

"My Mommy said that when it's really dark and there's a small light in the bedroom, you call it a nightlight."

How? _How_? Do you get _Nightlight_ from darkness!?

"You eyes are _really_ pretty in the dark!"

Of course.

With the never ending glow of his eyes in these shadows - a feature he used to pride himself in until now - of course it would capture the attention of this simple-minded creature.

He would have to do better than such a weak trick. This small challange shouldn't take long. Soon enough he will teach her the meaning of fear, and be on his way. Scaring the four year old April should be easy, right?

. . . Right?

* * *

A/N: Yay! Second chapter done! How will Pitch go about this so-thought-of _easy_ mission? Any ideas? I want to hear them! And if I happen to find a particular scare-idea that I haven't thought of already, I'll give you your credit!

So be sure to review! More reviews mean faster updates!


	3. Annoyed

_AN: _Didn't realize it's been a while since I last updated o_o;; busy, busy busy. Okay, not really, I've been babysitting my three little cousins every week and its an all-day type of thing (them, plus my brother and they're all under the age of nine is a lot of work). Sorry -_-;;

I could cry. Really, I could. With the boom of reviews I got after the last chapter I squealed like a silly fangirl and nearly woke up my brother! hahaha!

**_Special Thanks To:_**

**Mystichawk (Chapter 1 & 2):** Haha, well of course that's what I'm going to do! It wouldn't be much of a story if he scared her right away, now wouldn't it? lol You're review for chapter one made me insanely happy, I really appreciate it and I hope to keep up the good work and lack of Pitch OOC-ness for the future! :)

**The One Named Moonlight:** Haha, I have a lot of cousins that are a lot younger than me too (And when I say a lot, I mean I'm the oldest of fourteen because my family breeds like rabbits T_T;;) and I have yet to understand their logic. Ah, the joys of growing up . . . *cries*

**Fanfic newby (Chapter 1 & 2)****:** Punching a wall? hmmm . . .

**Caffeine Loving Otaku:** Ahh, a Grammar Nazi. I must admit I actually love you guys. I hope I've stated this before but I don't have spell/grammar check on the writing program I use and have to rely on the internet/fanfiction's document spell check (which isn't all that great). I don't use the word 'thee' unless I'm making the character exaggerate something one way or another (Example: I AM _THEE_ NIGHTMARE KING, NOT JUST _THE_ NIGHTMARE KING), so its most likely the slip of double pressing on the keyboard, hahaha I'm so happy you like April and I look forward to hearing your feedback in the near future!

**Pebblepaw**

**Abby-Flourite**

**yori neko**

**Frost: ** I think that was my favorite line so far, xD

* * *

_-x-_

_The Meaning of Fear_

_-x-_

* * *

**Annoyed**

_Wrong._

_Attempt Number 1: Spiders_

It started with a mental list of common phobias.

Spiders was at the top of that list.

It was simple, easy, and it made the nanny scream and run out the door . . . but . . .

* * *

Pitch slipped under the door of April's room, the big, hairy creature in hand. She was currently sleeping in on that dark and cloudy Friday morning, and he grinned almost excitedly as he waited for her reaction to see a giant tarantula in her bed. He let the creature crawl onto the soft sheets, and then took his place in the closet.

Nothing bad could have happened. The thing was harmless, almost like a creepy house pet. It didn't even bite - and upon its discovery, Pitch had secretly named him Hugo. He had a small soft spot for these dubbed-'scary' creatures, though it would be a good million years before he admitted to it.

Hugo took his place resting on top of the soft curls of April's blonde hair.

And then the nanny walked in.

She gave a happy greeting in a language Pitch recognized as Spanish, some folded blankets and bed sheets in hand. She set them on the set of drawers by the door and then proceeded to open the drapes on the other side of the room.

"Rise and shine!" She said, her thick accent hovering over the English words. Pitch rose an eyebrow, clearly not expecting the wake-up call from the nanny.

The woman was quiet old, with age lines around the corners of her eyes and mouth and her dark hair tied up unto a bun. She looked at the unshifting April questioningly, before stepping over to inspect the dark spot in the child's hair.

And then she screamed.

And then she ran out the door, knocking over the folded sheets she had just brought in.

And April shot forward, her face squinting in something akin to pain and annoyance, her hands over her ears.

The Nightmare King shrugged, not worried about the arachnephobic nanny and instead peered through the crack of the closet door to view the younger girl's reaction. She sat there for a good minute, rubbing her ears and replacing her usual curious stare with one of sleepy grumpiness. Pitch couldn't help but rub his hands together in anticipation.

Hugo was right above her ear, hanging off the tangled mess of April's hair. He couldn't wait to see the horrified look on that trouble-child's face once she felt the tiny hairs of a giant spider in her hand. Oh, the fearful scream she would create . . .

He watched her freeze in place, seeing as she had finally grasped her tiny fingers around the furry, squirming creature in her hair. With a few gentle tugs, April finally held Hugo out in front of her. Her half-lidded eyes widened. Was that a look of fear? The lips of her mouth parted slightly, as if sucking in air for a blood-curdling scream; oh this was almost too easy! Too perfect! This child was so scared out of her wits that she doesn't even know what to think-

April huffed, her eyes narrowed, and then she proceeded to dangle the eight-legged creature off the side of her bed before dropping it flat on the ground.

Pitch's memory would never let him forget the moment he let out a pathetic, high-pitched scream as he watched his precious pet crash onto the floor. "Hugo, no!" He shouted, reaching his hands out of the closet to snatch the poor thing off the ground. It was almost as embarrassing as the time he ran away from his own Mares - the same ones made from his own fears and had dragged him down into his lair.

He hissed, cradling the creature in his hands as he glared at the four-year-old who didn't seem to take notice of his presence and instead opted to slam her head back into her pillow to sleep.

What was that? What was THAT? How could - this tarantula would make hundreds of children her age at least shudder at the feel of such a thing, but instead she-she!

"How dare you!" He shouted, checking to see if Hugo was injured in some way.

April responded by slamming her pillow into his face and ducking under her covers.

Pitch opened his mouth with nasty retort, his shadows building onto his nails to make them seem longer, sharper. If he wasn't in his right mind, he'd shred up that stupid stuffed rabbit of hers and. . . . and . . .!

_You win this round, you annoying brat! _he seethed. _Go ahead, and keep dreaming about rabbits and unicorns. Imagine yourself among little fairies who come into the night._

Because he would teach this little girl the meaning of fear. It will be a lesson she will _never _forget.

* * *

_Attempt number 2: Snakes_

Note to self, the child is not a morning person.

Following the earlier incident, Pitch had followed as the nanny took April to the park that afternoon. Luckily for him, it was a cool, cloudy day of November, the sun not becoming any issue with his sensitivity to the light. It was still an early morning, so the park was mostly deserted. The Sandman was long gone, off to meddle with children's dreams in other parts of the world, and though it had snowed lightly the night before, Jack Frost didn't seem to be around.

Pitch was free to do as he pleased. So with another plan forming in his head (and hopefully, this time none of his precious pets would get harmed in the process), he hid in one of the tall surrounding trees.

Snakes had always been a favorite of his - they weren't feared just because they were scary looking, it was the potential danger when in the presence of one that gave off the real feeling of fear. He flashed back to the time of the Dark Ages, to one incident involving a sleeping orphanage and dreams full of snake pits.

This time, the snake won't just be a dream. One would do, and to make sure that the foolish girl didn't go along harming it accidentally, Pitch would make sure it wasn't actually real. Just like how he made his mares, the black sparkling sand merged together to form the long reptile. It hissed at him, and coiled around the length of his arm as it's head rose to come face to face with the Nightmare King.

"Perfect," He muttered, grinning wickedly as the serpent's tongue nearly flicked on to his nose.

"No child could resist your venomous flare. Now, take care of this situation for me, don't be afraid to nip at those little fingers of hers." It wouldn't hurt her. Much.

By the very least, it wouldn't break the skin.

April was currently climbing on the outside of tunnel-slide, waving enthusiastically at the nanny who was thumbing through the pages of a book.

The child was playing some game that prevented her from touching the ground. Did he hear the word 'lava' come out of her mouth at some point? Pitch shook his head, telling himself that he didn't care. If the girl fell from that height because of her foolishness when he unleashed this littler slithering misery upon her, than it wouldn't exactly be his fault, now would it? She shouldn't have been on the jungle gym like that anyhow. . .

High above from the girl's spot, Pitch held out his arm, ready to release the black serpent. This will be it. She won't see it coming! April was all content and happy smiles now. But when she saw the danger that she could be in as soon as she gazed into the hissing reptile's mouth, it would all be over. His mission done. He could even play around a bit, making the snake chase after her as she screamed and ran.

The nanny made her way to the child, her eyes scolding as she attempted to explain in her foreign tongue that April shouldn't be playing on top of the slide like that. With her mouth twisting in disappointment, April folded her arms and pouted.

"But it's fun!" She whined, guessing what her nanny was trying to say.

Pitch laughed as he watched his dark creation fall through the air. He had intended to have it land on the girl's head, but having it land just behind April was good enough. With a loud _thump_! the serpent had coiled in on itself for the soft landing. It hissed loudly, and the nanny, for the second time that day, screamed and jumped three feet away.

Watching from above, he crossed his arms, satisfied.

Only to watch the snake slip off the round surface, and, once again, his creature crashed to the ground. It was almost comical. And Pitch would have laughed if he didn't feel sudden anger at the fact that April turned around to gaze at the spot his snake had just resided in. But she saw nothing. And with another glance at her nanny, she shrugged her shoulders and continued playing her little game.

Damn it.

* * *

_Attempt Number 3: Creatures in the Dark_

If you wanted something done right, you have to do it yourself.

As the nanny tucked little April into bed that night, Pitch had formed another plan - this time, directly involving himself. He would have to do one of his classics: make things go bump in the night.

It was actually one of his usuals, the things he did when out of the Sandman's reach. Being afraid of the dark was something April didn't seem to have a problem with, but what about what was _in_ the dark?

* * *

As soon as Nanny had left, little April snatched her stuffed rabbit from the windowsill and hugged it tightly to her chest. She yawned lightly, her eyes watering from doing so, and leaned back against her pillow.

Today had been such a day! Other than her nanny screaming a lot for who-knows-why, she got to go to the park. And then they went shopping and Nanny bought her some yummy strawberry yogurt!

But she was disappointed that her spikey-haired Nightlight was not around. She waited and waited, all day long for him to approach her. But no such luck. Didn't he say he was going to teach her what fear was? Did he forget?

She sighed, laying her head down into her pillow. Maybe he did forget . . . but . . . maybe she'll see him tomorrow?

She smiled at that thought, now feeling excited and not wanting to sleep at all.

Yes! Yes! And then her spikey-haired Nightlight would teach her about fear, and maybe they could play the frozen lava game she made up at the park! Boy, it would be so fun!

_"April . . ."_ An eery voice called out. The child in question turned, looking around her room to find the owner of the voice.

"Huh?"

Now where could that have come from?

* * *

The shadow of his hands swept across the floor, his claws extending to razor-sharp points as it slid out from under her bed.

_"April~"_ he called out again, his voice smooth, and yet unrecognizable.

He heard her say something, but was too caught in his act to understand it. She had to be there, shivering in her own skin as she spotted the shapes on the floor.

The hand-shadows rose, forming themselves into solid forms before the claws crawled onto the edge of her bed. The light of the room stilled, darkening and then flash into a bright, bright red.

And then the dark spikes of his hair peeked out from the edge next, and his face distorted into a hideous, rotten creature. His mouth, filled with razor teeth, and dripping black with black ooze, had widened as it whispered quiet screams of horror. She'd hear them now, those fearful cries for help.

The quiet voice back of his mind, the one that was always sensible and aware, asked Pitch curiously: what was the child thinking now? Was she frightened? Was she so frightened, that she couldn't find her own voice to work up a scream?

_"Are you afraid?"_ he spoke aloud. Again, there was no response.

Oh, this would be wonderful! Beautiful even! The look of pure fear in the child's eyes as he finally gazed down upon her!

He couldn't wait. All too quickly, breaking his usual suspense-building routine, Pitch popped his head out from the side of her bed. His Boogeyman mask in place as he snapped straight in front the child with his eyes narrowed threateningly.

_"Do you realize the meaning of fear now?"_

And then suddenly, it was hard to breath.

"NIGHTLIGHT!" the child yelled. Pitch's mind was finally able to process the feel of the girl's tiny arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly. She giggled and pulled back, poking him in the cheek.

Wait . . . what?

"I knew i'twas you! I don't know if i'twas you at first but I'd know those eyes any-way-er! And your hair. Did you miss me? Where were you I thought you were going to teach me what fear was today?"

April poked his cheek, frowning at the distortion she wasn't used to. "What happened to your face? Do you need a band-aid? It's okay if you got a owie, my mommy got me Hello Kitty band-aids!"

As if his childish acts couldn't end since the moment he met this little girl, Pitch puffed out his cheeks and had to really, _really_ keep himself from pounding his feet onto the floor and start knocking his fists against the bed

"Stop hugging me you insolent child!" he snapped.

April giggled again, poking the Nightmare King's nose. "You're funny."

Pitch Black was really beginning to get annoyed.


	4. Irritation

_AN:_ Along with trying to keep with Pitch's sort of British English, I'm trying to keep up with April's sort of four-year-old accent. Since I've never had to write like that before, it's a little hard, but I'm trying! I'm basing her speaking off of my five year old cousin's, who's way of speaking is incredibly adorable. She doesn't have a _specific_ accent, it's just the way she talks. Like when she says the number 'four', she says it like _fo-uh_, and the _er_ sound at the end ending really softly.

_**Special Thanks To:**_

**Mystichawk:** Ahaha, I'm glad I'm getting good tabs on the humor :) _The Boogeyman Tries to Understand Fanfiction_? I checked it out and it's absolutely HILARIOUS! I didn't review yet because I read it on my phone (and logging into that is annoying) but when I finish it I'll be sure to do so! You think my story would be worthy enough to have a small part in it? Alright, sure if you want! hahaha, and yeah, the Nightlight nickname is a reference to the books, which will be mentioned later on, teehee.

**The Girl Who Believed3**

**Abby-Flourite:** Oh no! Don't choke! I wouldn't get your review then! hahaha, jk, jk!

**Midgeteen (Chapters 1, 2 &3):** Haha, I was wondering when you'd be curious enough to check this out :P So glad you like it, but if you thought _that_ chapter would hit your feels, the end of this one might make them burn! Hahaha xD

* * *

_-x-_

_The Meaning of Fear_

_-x-_

* * *

**Irritation**

_THIS CHILD IS BROKEN!_

The weekend had passed in such a blur, and through those two to three days Pitch couldn't remember the last time he was so irritated, at a child that is. Other than Jamie Bennett, the little boy who wouldn't stop believing and thus ended his short time of reign to lead to his downfall. But he didn't like to think about such a low time of his life.

But blast it all, this four year old girl wouldn't break! She had to, at least once in her life, felt fear before! Be it at a carnival ride or in a haunted house - there had to be _something_!

She had to be doing this on purpose. Pitch Black was being made a fool of and the Guardians had to have set him up! That was the only explanation!

Because even though he had been spotted several times by different Guardians, the chase had been, had been . . . not even a chase!

It was like they weren't even taking him seriously anymore!

It was an insult to his pride and being. An insult!

* * *

The Nightmare King was usually a patient man. During his close take over two years ago, he made sure that he had carried his plans out carefully before making his first move. He made sure his corrupted dust had been perfected. He checked over several hundred times that his creations of mares and other haunted creatures had no flaw.

But on day two of teaching the meaning of fear, that little patience he had left started to run thin.

_Attempt Number 4: Sharp objects_

Ended in disaster. Morning breakfast consisted of a bowl of Lucky Charms being eaten on the dining room table. Except that April refused to eat, instead eyeing the plate of sugar cookies on the counter her nanny had just taken out of the oven.

"Eat your breakfast and I'll let you have one cookie," the nanny had said in summary of her broken English. April didn't seem to be listening, instead sitting at the table with a pout as she glared at her cereal. Pitch could definitely see that she was not a morning person.

"I want a cookie," she muttered. The nanny said nothing, instead taking the laundry basket set by the table and walked away.

Pitch scoffed, wondering how a nanny could leave a child of April's age alone to eat when she could easily choke.

But no matter. With the old lady out of the room, he was able to go through with his plan without any screaming this time. Pitch had planned to catch April by surprise that morning, swooping into her sight and setting his claws just inches away from her face. _Aichmophobia_ was the fear of sharp objects - part of his short list of common phobias. Every child should know the consequences of pointy objects that could potentially hurt them.

Before making his move, Pitch watched as April formed a sneaky grin on her face. She did a little dance with her torso, wiggling out of her highchair and quietly setting herself down onto the kitchen floor. Curious, he observed that knowing look and figured that the child was going to go against her nannies rule and attempt to get some cookies anyways.

He rose an eyebrow at the in-process act, slightly surprised that the sweet, clueless child would disobey something. Maybe she was more wicked than he thought? But then again, she was a child. Things usually went in one ear and out the other.

Though that smile did slightly disturb him to a point.

No matter. He snuck behind the girl, waiting for her to turn around at the right moment. Would she cringe away from him? Surely she wouldn't be foolish enough to try and hug him again, would she?

April's little hands barely reached the top edge of the countertop, inches away from the round plate of sweets.

Any moment now . . . pitch thought to himself. She would fail at her attempts of cookie-snatching, turn around, and . . .

She jumped high off the ground, using the counter as support and opening the drawer under the stove with her foot for better balance. Her fingers slammed on the edge of the plate causing it to flip and fly over her little blonde head-

_CRASH!_

In those three seconds, April's little feet was back on the hard kitchen floor and she fell on her bottom with a loud thump.

And the Nightmare King was left on the ground, his head having been met with the misfortune of colliding with the cookie plate as it had flipped.

April turned to examine the mess and smiled brightly, as if oblivious to the way the Boogieman curled in pain on the floor. "Oh, good mornin' Nightlight!"

It was that morning he knew he was going to have another bad day.

Two hours and the end of a splitting headache later, Pitch threw away the sneak-approach, instead opting for the simple task of coming up to the child with a needle in his hand. It killed two birds with one stone - she could either be afraid of sharp objects, or she could be afraid of shots. No child like shots! She shouldn't be any different!

But of course, as he held the black-sand-made syringe inches from April's nose, the girl looked at it with crossed eyes and then her face changed as if something clicked in that little annoying head of hers.

"Oh! I already gots my shots!" She said, recognizing the object. She pulled up her nightgown to her knees, revealing the two Band-Aids on each leg.

"Mommy said it would hurt lots, but it didn't hurt too much."

Saying nothing, instead just glaring at the child with narrow eyes, Pitch stood straight and walked away with the little dignity he had left.

* * *

It had spiraled from there, more than it had the day before.

_Attempt Number 5: Dirt & Grime_

Ended in a snowball, mud slush fight that had the nanny groaning in annoyance as April ran into the house when she was called. She tracked in all that grime and dirt onto the newly cleaned floors of the kitchen, the holder of the backyard entrance.

It was hard to find any dirt around when it was wintertime. But Pitch had managed, digging through the six inches of snow on the ground to hit the soil beneath. As April attempted to make her own snowman in the backyard, wearing her new green winter jack that was all puffy and kept her warm, Pitch figure that no little girl like dirt on her clothes. Ooh, the disgusting sliminess, she would run from him for sure.

But when he flew the mud ball into the air and laughed as it hit April square in the chest, the child fell to the ground and looked at her new and now ruined jacket with a gaping open mouth. He pumped a fist up in the air in victory. Direct hit!

"Yes! The Boogieman has soiled your bright and shiny clothing! You will fear me and run from the disgusting grime I hold in my hand and -"

_SPLASH!_ for the second time that day, Pitch black was hit in the head. Though it was but snow, and the throw wasn't very harmful, it had hit the exact spot he had been hit in before, bringing back the ringing in his ears and another splitting head ache.

A loud giggle emitted from behind the half-finished snow man. Pitches eyes flashed as he spotted the giggling menace poking her head out.

"How dare you!" he shouted, bending to gather snow and mud into his hands. "I am the Boogieman you daft child!"

Hands braced in the air, Pitch rushed forward, chasing the little dirt covered creature around and around the pile of snow. A few hits, and a few ducks there. It took a good two minutes before Pitch Black had realized what exactly he was doing, only because he flashed back to the time those idiotic children having a snowball fight of their own, and Jack Frost hit him in the face to bring such serious situation into a fun and playful one.

Okay, he had to admit that he set himself up for this one.

Straightening himself, Pitch stuck up his chin and adjusted his dark robe. He slicked back his damp spikes - cringing at the feel of the stuck-in leaves that had managed get there - and sauntered on his way.

* * *

_Attempt Number 6: Heights_

Still recovering from the previous day's events, Pitch spent that Sunday morning holding an icepack to his head, glaring at the child who decided to spend the day in her room.

What could he do that would prevent himself and other living creatures from bodily harm?

It was a stupid question to him - a child? Causing _him_ harm? So, instead of thinking logically like a smart person, Pitch had thrown the thought aside and continued thinking of his ways to scare the child. What other effective ways were there?

And as he looked out the window, an idea popped brightly inside his head.

_Heights!_

Without another second to spare, Pitch snatched the unsuspecting child from her spot surrounded by toys on the floor and flew out the window.

This would work. It had to! Even adults were afraid of heights!

"What we doing out here? Sebby said I'm not allowed on the roof even when he puts the Christmas lights up 'cause I can fall."

_Sebby_? Pitch asked himself briefly before shaking his head. He had to focus on the task at hand, not on the child's nonsense.

Holding her by the waist, Pitch shot out his arms and held April over the edge off the rooftop, having a good feeling when the girl instinctively curled her body together around his grasp. After a few second with no other reaction - and learning from past attempts that silence wouldn't always mean frozen with fear, Pitch stretched his neck to gaze at the child's face.

Blank. Just . . . blank.

It was almost as if she didn't know what to make of the situation . . .

A large smile graced her lips, and soon she was wiggling in his grasp - he sucked in a breath, tightening his hold prevent her from falling.

"Stop squirming!" he snapped.

"But it's nanny! HI NANNY! LOOK AT ME I'M FLYING!"

The old woman froze for a second, looking around as she had stepped outside even further. Finally, as if hesitating, the nanny looked up.

And from her view, because she couldn't see the Boogieman holding the child out from arms length, the four year old really was flying.

With a scream of horror, the woman's face paled, before her eyes rolled into the back of her head and her body slumped to the ice ground.

"Nanny, its not good to take naps outside!" April scolded, her lip puckering out. "You don't even have a pillow!"

Pitch ignored the fallen woman and turned the child towards him.

"Do you not see that you can fall from this distance, child?" he asked, irritation clear in his voice.

April looked up at her spikey-haired Nightlight with blinking eyes.

"No," she said honestly.

"And why _not_?" he growled back.

The child seemed to think for a moment, and then she gave him a look that seemed to think the answer was the most obvious in the world. "Because, Nightlight, you're holding me."

It was so innocent, that tone of her voice. And though Pitch was sorely tempted to just drop the child right then and there, he was . . . stunned.

Was it her eyes? Those large, fern green eyes that looked at him with so much trust, trust that he wouldn't let her fall? Was it the glimmer she held him with, the shine that didn't back down from his piercing gaze?

It seemed to be a long while that Pitch stood there, because April frowned and shivered lightly, curling her arms around her torso.

"Nightlight, I'm cold, can we go inside now?"

He said nothing. Instead he did as he was asked, bringing the child back through the window to her room and setting her on the bed. He tossed a small blanket he found over the her head, and left without any final words of parting. His irritation alone had put him in a sour mood. It was because of that nickname, he told himself. That horribly ironic, disgustingly, just plain _wrong_ nickname!

Pitch Black decided that he was done for the day.


	5. Cranky

_AN:_ Someone asked me why I was rating this story 'T' since it seems to be an innocent, humorous little kid story that should be lowered to 'K+' or something. And for those who are wondering the same thing I just decided to put this little tid-bit here.

Even with all the fun-filled adventures Pitch is having to go through with April, the Nightmare King is supposed to be a dark character - he feeds off the fear and terror of children, it's not exactly all sparkles and butterflies. Don't worry, this story isn't going to be horror or gory or have any adult content. It's just the way Pitch thinks things through, the choice of language, and some plot-turning events that are going to happen in the future which contains a bit of violence - again I say, don't worry! This all has a happy ending and there's no gut-wrenching trauma! I can't write those, it would break my heart!

_**Special Thanks To:**_

**darthcat: **

**MD (1, 2, 3, & 4):** Aww I'm glad you like April!

**Tierney Greyleaf: **Haha, when I first saw the movie I was in love with Pitch right away (Along with Jack Frost, but hey, who doesn't love him?) and this idea (well, a version of it) popped into my head as I left it. I hope you post your story, lord knows we need some more fun-filled Pitch loving fanfics out there!

**FoxxyRyukiChan**

**KoalaCupcake**

**Guest: **I've always wanted to make a story with a little kid as the main center being all innocent and funny and stuff (ideas ranged from Pirates of the Caribbean to Avatar: The Last Airbender) and a version of this story popped into my head as I left the theatre watching the movie. I'm so glad you like this fanfic, thank you so much!

**The One Named MoonLight**

**Mystichawk:** He couldn't possibly what? What? Tell me! Tell me!

**Blackrose257**

* * *

_-x-_

_The Meaning of Fear_

_-x-_

* * *

**Cranky**

"_Dream a little dream,"_

The Nightmare King cooed as he hovered over the unsuspecting youth. With the tiniest flicker of his fingers, the golden sand was tainted, the images of tiny little fishes getting eaten by ferocious, blood-thirsty sharks.

He boarded his finest Nightmare, and before the Sandman could notice the deed he had done, he was off into the night.

It had been too long since Pitch had fed himself, spending most of his time at the other little girl's house and not realizing how much time had passed. His failed attempts at teaching the girl to fear was draining, and the lack of produce he got from it was beginning to take its starving toll.

Not to mention, these failures had cracked his pride - so much so that he dared to cross into the danger zone, out of New York and into the territory of Pennsylvania, home state of the little village of Burgess. The Guardians may not have been taking him seriously recently, but Jack Frost was always wary and cautious of his presence, usually refusing the boogeyman to be anywhere near his precious home. And that was what made Pitch come there in the first place: he could instigate a fight and the challenge was welcome.

However, something felt very, very, wrong. Pitch told himself that it was because he couldn't forget his little lesson still unfinished one state away, but it bothered him that the further he drifted from April's current setting, the more he felt a sickening twist in his stomach. Testing out this uneasy feeling, he traveled further, and further. Each mile worsening, his mind being drawn back to his current haunt and forcing his body to turn around against his will. Each day passed with a phantom feeling of agony, and before he knew it, Thanksgiving had come and gone and the week was nearly over.

It was then, he noted with distaste, that he had yet to stop thinking about the little girl he left behind. The one snuggled under her pink frilly covers, alone, with nothing but her stuffed rabbit by her side.

He had been there for an entire weekend and had yet to see April's mother or her father. She spoke of them, and they were alive by the recent stories she would babble about. But why was she looked after by someone who wasn't her parents?

The Monday he left he found out something interesting: April's family was pretty well off. He could have guessed by the house, but you never knew these days. He discovered this fact when passing by the calendar in the kitchen, noting that the week was a holiday for the small staff, and that April's father had gone on a business trip with their butler Sebastian (and while putting the facts together, figured that the 'Sebby' she mentioned earlier was the man).

Was it possible that April's parents were too busy with work to look after her? It made sense, to afford a nanny and having a better living than your average person. But why have a child at all if they weren't going to take care of her?

Pitch snorted, nearly smacking himself in the head for bringing his thoughts back to the well-being of a four-year old human child. When he found out what would make the girl scream and finally run from him in fear, he would be done. It mattered not what when on in her life.

* * *

By the time he came back to the Darling residence (the child's last name, he also learned), April had already been settled down for her afternoon nap. He frowned at this; now that he was refreshed, with clever ideas that were sure to produce results, Pitch had hoped to get to work right away. It had been nearly a week since the two had seen each other after all.

_Now what?_ He asked himself, looking at the child sleeping soundly on the living room floor.

Idea! The word popped, a lightbulb nearly appearing above the spikes of his hair.

The element of surprise! It was fabulous. The child literally wouldn't know what was coming! She'd wake up with a yelp, scared out of her wits!

Pulling a small palm-sized box from the shadows, Pitch carefully slid it to sit beside the girl's head. The handle appeared at the snap of his fingers and slowly turned. The cranking noise of the box was light, melodic, with the Jack-in-the-Box tune playing behind it.

The tune slowed as it neared its end and . . .

_"AAAHHH!"_

This was not the scream Pitch was hoping for.

"I DON'T WANT IT!" April screeched, her tiny fist swinging down onto the table top after already hitting the bowl of cereal onto the dining room floor.

The new nanny (replaced after the old one quit, screaming that this demon child was cursed) was at her nerves end, her dirty-blonde hair springing into every direction as she ran around the dining room in attempts to keep the mess from spreading.

"Please little one, do not throw the fit, yes?" she pleaded, the old nanny's Spanish accent replaced with - Russian?

Pitch couldn't be sure, nor could he care because he was too busy trying to get April's banshee-like fit-screaming out of his ears.

"NOOO!" She cried, no longer flinging around her limbs but instead sitting in her booster seat, crying her lungs out.

It has been a full hour of this scenery since the child had woken up and turned this house into a _house of hell_. Nanny had thought the child had woken up because she was hungry, but offering April food had become pointless. April decided she wanted some marshmellow-type, and then demanded the honey-o's.

Pitch Black had never dealt with something like this before - screams of terror and shouts of absolute horror, yes. But this? This is like nothing he had ever heard before! The crying and fit throwing - he had heard that cranky children were like little bred demons in human form, but never, in all his millenia of life, did he expect something like _this_!

_And that is what you get for waking the child from her nap_, a little voice in the back of his head said, a hint of laughter in its tone.

And he would have escaped long ago had he not felt that it would wound his pride even further to run away from a mere four-year-old. No, he wouldn't run away, surely this would pass, wouldn't it?

April had spotted him several times hiding in the corners of her house, but had decided to ignore his presence for the time being - whether it was because she knew he was the reason for her sleep deprivation, or because it was along with her mood he didn't know.

But he knew one thing - the image of the cute, sweet, curious and innocent April had been completely shattered.

The Nightmare King was _really_ beginning to regret this small mistake of waking a child from her nap.

* * *

"I want to watch the Fishy!" April demanded, having been sent to her room so the nanny could clean up the after-effects of her tantrum.

"You dare order the Nightmare King around?" Pitch glared, trying his best not to stoop to the girl's level and throw a tantrum of his own. April stood her ground, refusing to back away from Pitch's glare as she gave him the best mad look she could muster up.

"Put on my fishy movie!" She demanded again, this time stomping her foot on the ground.

Pitch took a deep breath. He rose an eyebrow as he straightened his spine and crossed his arms in an act of dominance.

"I'm the boogeyman!" he said, though how many times he's said that since he met this girl he did not know. Maybe because he had to remind himself. Constantly. "You will not use such a tone with me!"

"I want to watch the FISHY MOVIE!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"NO!"

"YES! FISHY MOVIE, FISHY MOVIE, FISHY-FISHY-FISHY MOVIE!"

Shaking his head, Pitch swooped down to the child's face, his eyes maddeningly bright with anger. "I don't KNOW WHAT FISHY MOVIE YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!"

"YES, YOU DO!" April cried again, tears beginning to spill over her reddened cheeks.

Yelling out a voice of frustration, he threw his hands into the air before letting it rub over the sides of his face. He was losing it, just like the woman downstairs. And she ended up cleaning the child's mess.

He could not - would not! - stoop so low! He had to stay calm. This dark king would not argue with the child, he just had to find a way to shut her up!

Crossing his arms, trying once again to show that he would not pressure under the child's tantrum, Pitch stuck out his chin.

"I will not buckle under your tears like the common creature, little one," he managed calmly. "You have no excuse to act like a childish banshee. I have no idea what this 'fish' movie is and you have no sense in trying to-"

"It's the FISHY MOVIE!" April tried to explain between her sobs. "I want to watch the fishy movie! The one with the blue fish singing the swimming song and the birdie who goes into the doctor's office to talk to the other fish! I really want to watch it! WHY DO YOU HATE ME?!"

Pitch opened his mouth to snap out, only to be drowned out by the thrashing of her limbs hitting the floor.

Stay calm.

Stay _absolutely_ calm . . .

"FINE! BE THAT WAY! I DON'T LIKE YOU NO MORE! GO AWAY!"

_"STUPID NIGHTLIGHT!"_

_"SPIKEY HAIRED MEANIE BRAIN!"_

_"BUTT-HEAD!"_

_"SEBBY WOULD GIVE ME WHAT I WANT!"_

"OKAY I'LL LOOK FOR YOUR MOVIE JUST STOP THIS RIGHT NOW!"

Without waiting for a response, Pitch grit his teeth together and flew to the shelf built into the wall as fast as he could, his eyes scanning the movie titles. Several ocean related movies came up, only two featuring fish as the main character.

He held out the cases to the child who still cried and lay on the floor, but was no longer screaming.

"_Finding Nemo_ or _Shark Tale_?" he hissed through his teeth. She hiccupped, maneuvering herself to sit with her legs crossed. She sniffled, looking at the pictures on the DVD cases and rubbed her red eyes.

"I don't want to watch the fishy movie anymore I want _Cindo-wella_."

THIS CHILD.

THIS INFURIATING, STRESS-INDUCING -

_Child_.

It had been much too long since he had interacted with any _child_. And now here he was . . .

_I am so busy trying to frighten children. I don't have time . . . for children . . ._ he reasoned with himself.

He flashbacked to his first years as Pitch the Nightmare King. He made many names because of his interactions with the youth. He made his reputation from it. But after awakening away from the times of the Dark Ages, things had changed far too much, and he had forgotten what it was like to be . . . him.

And to this day he still forgot what drove him to _be _the man named Pitch Black. What gave him the reason to do what he does best?

Maybe he would find out one day.

And so, with Pitch being stumped with several unfamiliar thoughts and feelings for the second time, he took a few breaths, and sat with the girl at eye-level.

"April," he said sternly, ignoring the flow of fresh tears streaming down her face. "I am putting in one of these movies whether you like it, or not. I will not tolerate this behavior any further, do you understand?"

She 'humphed' and folded her arms, looking away from the victim of her anger. He looked at her for a second longer, put in one of the two movies, and sat on the floor next to her.

As the movie played, starting with a shark circling a worm, Pitch heard April shift around before feeling her tug on his sleeve.

"Nightlight," she muttered as he resisted to cringe. "I sorry I was being bad."

"Good," Pitch approved, happy with apology. He looked back at the film, until she tugged his sleeve again.

"What?"

She looked at him shyly through her eyelashes, fiddling with her hands. "Can I . . . can I sit in your lap? The floor is cold."

The audacity! Pitch thought with a sneer. The floor was carpet, how could it possibly be cold?

He didn't know what made him do it - maybe because for the first time since he's been back, April had finally calmed down, even just a little. But without even looking at her, instead rolling his eyes at his own actions, Pitch picked the child up and set her in his lap.

"Foolish child. Just this once," He muttered irritably. April smiled brightly for the first time that day and made herself comfortable.

_What have I gotten myself into_? he thought. The four-year-old really did have a temper on her. Just imagining what she would be like when she gets older. . .

He suppressed a shudder.

May the universe help the poor bloke who would have to deal with April's wrath.

* * *

A/N: o.o;; much longer than I was expecting, heh, heh. I wanted to put that beginning part somewhere else to cut it shorter, but I didn't know where else to put it and it needs to answer a few questions about April's home life. More shall be revealed soon, hopefully!

I hope you liked and please review!

I ALSO HAVE A FACEBOOK PAGE! Specifically for this fanfiction author, my facebook page is made for any questions, comments, updates, news, and so on! It also has pictures, close-ups of my story covers and many more! Just type in LunaBell08 in the search bar and you should recognize my picture!

Next: Chapter 6 - Bitter  
_Though it was risky, Pitch decides to dive deep into April's dreams, into the back of her unconciousness, to grasp onto her biggest fear. But what he finds there isn't at all what he expected . . ._


	6. Bitter

AN: And so a long and sort of complicated chapter had finally arrived - an explanation chapter, I should say. Today, Pitch is going to learn the whys and hows of April's personality and why she can see him but not seem to know who he really is.

Enjoy! :)

_**Special Thanks To:**_

**Mystichawk:** Kids can be quite scary . . . *shudders*

**The One Named MoonLight:** Haha, I did that before! Hurt my wrist, lol

**Guest**

**Huddybuddy**

**MD**

**KoalaCupcake**

**D.D Natanya (Chapters 4 & 5):** Yessss, I'm keeping Pitch well in character, thank you! Hahaha, did you get the bit when Pitch was saying he was too busy for children? Teehee, I felt so clever xD

**darthcat**

**Moonpie:** Well I'm glad you gave my story a chance and like it a lot! The Misadventures of April and Pitch Black? Haha, that has a fun ring to it, lol

**Tierny Greyleaf:** Haha, fantastic? Really? Why thank you! You've gotta love the effect _Finding Nemo_ has on little kids! xD I use it as like a hypnotic device on my cousins - I put it on while they're rowdy and they calm right down! It works _most_ of the time :P

* * *

_-x-_

_The Meaning of Fear_

_-x-_

**Calliope Torrez, Grey's Anatomy**  
"The brain is the human body's most mysterious organ. It learns; it changes; it adapts. It tells us what we see; what we hear. It lets us feel love. I think it holds our soul. But no matter how much research we do, no one can really say how all that delicate grey matter inside our skull works. And when it's hurt, when the human brain is traumatized, well . . . that's when it gets even more mysterious."

* * *

**Bitter**

_Not a care in the world_

Nope. None at all. Pitch didn't care that he had yet to have any success in scaring a mere four-year-old human child named April Darling. He didn't care that despite the prissy little name, he had been up to this task for nearly three weeks and got zip with the results.

Heck, he didn't even care that the apartment was a big downsize from the big house he was used to being in. Small and not very roomy, April's room here was less than half the size of the one in her father's house. Blue walls and a dull off-white, stained carpet replaced that pink walls and frills that had the room looking like Hello Kitty threw up all over the place. The big flat screen was replaced with a small black telly-VCR-in-one, with few video tapes set beside it on the floor. The kitchen was connected to the living room with no dinning, and the bathroom had just a shower, toilet, and sink. No tub.

Her mother's apartment was very, very far from impressive. Pitch would think about how he preferred her father's spacious setting compared to this tiny place, but he was too busy brooding in the corner to care.

It didn't help that his bitter mood kick-started when he entered the Darling residence and found strangers there, three woman with packaged years and an elder man who April was a little too happy to see. _"You're father wasn't able to visit upon his return, Darling."_ he said in a strong accent that Pitch also didn't care to place. It took one guess for him to figure that this was the family's butler, Sebastian.

_So typical of a name for a butler,_ Pitch thought in contempt, pouting in a far corner from the girl's sight. He had been gone nearly a week and he was met with a cranky, mad little creature. The fact that he was the one to instigate that was beside the point.

April paid no heed to the sad news and instead delved into several questions about the butler's trip, ending with any presents he may have gotten her. He laughed full of heart and reminded her that though he was back, she would have to pack up and get ready to head to her mother's. She too had returned from a trip of her own and was ready to make up for the week she had lost.

Turns out, April was a child of divorce. And due to her father's wealth, Pitch expected the mother to be just the same - slapping on her responsibility to her child to another as she went off doing who knows what.

If he knew that it was the complete opposite, he might have preferred living back into the high lifestyle.

His lair was more roomy than this place.

From what he learned of the woman though, a bright-smiling, yet tired woman in her late thirties, she was very . . . kind.

He blanched, not wishing to go more into thoughts about kindness or happiness. Right now, he was brooding. Because April Darling's lifestyle was normal so-to-speak, not being the only child with divorced parents. But it still didn't explain as to why she had to be so difficult! Why? _Why_ was this strange, pain-in-the-neck so . . . so . . . so much a pain-in-the-neck!

With his confidence boost quickly deflating after more lesson-attempts at teach the girl the meaning fear, Pitch was at a standstill. He had spent half the night wondering about the child's mentality, and told himself countless times that it wasn't _him_ that was losing his touch, but it was _her_.

Skipping around, smiling so happily, calling him a horrible, disgustingly bright nickname ; defying him and even going as far as to look him in the eye and give demands.

Ha! Pitch would have laughed aloud if he didn't fear waking the child from her slumber. He learned his lesson. Not be cause he was scared of her, pfft, Pitch Black wasn't scared of anything! He just . . . refused to go through that torturous episode of fit-throwing and ear-screeching again! It really set him back from his mission to scare the girl. And she can't be scared if she was already upset about something else!

_I am the boogeyman!_ He told himself again. Because saying it fifty times a day apparently wasn't enough of a reminder.

And then a thought hit him: _I AM the boogeyman!_

The King of Nightmares. the one who thrives off the fear of children's dreams!

_Dreams_.

Ooooh! He rubbed his hands in pure glee, grinning largely at his new plan that had just formed. Why hadn't he thought of this before? Oh, it had been ages since he'd used this trick, and that was because the Sandman was always in his way.

Because this was risky. And very, very dangerous. Pitch could _find_ April's greatest fears. Yes, yes! He could _find_ them with an easy travel through the girl's dreams, and dive deep into her unconsciousness to grasp onto what could make her cry in pure terror!

And what sparked this brilliant beyond brilliant idea?

He had never noticed this before, and it was mostly because he never stuck around the child long enough to watch her sleep during the night, but he had just discovered something very curious:

The Sandman's spirit didn't linger around the girl's dreams. No golden grains filtered into her room, giving her the protection and love of childhood his abilities gave the small children.

She was blank.

What did she dream about during the night? He wondered. What could she possibly see in her unconscious state, never needing the help of the Sandman's power?

Was it because of her age? No, past that of infancy is when children found that they needed to be protected. That was when the Sandman was welcome to filter their nightmares and change them into sweet dreams.

Then what was it? Why was the Sandman not here?

Through the window, the moon shone brightly, the beams of light gliding over his shadows until resting on the peaceful, sleeping face of April.

He stood, knowing fully well that the Moon saw him everywhere but wondering why now of all times he would show interest in Pitch's lessons of fear.

"What are you thinking, old friend?" he asked out loud. The light shone brighter, as if in response.

Pitch said nothing, instead looking back at the four-year-old with a face of contempt.

"Is this some sort of trick?" he asked.

Because it felt like the Man in the Moon was _telling_ Pitch to take a look. As if he was _encouraging_ Pitch to dive into April's dreams and travel deep into her subconscious.

The hesitation was short-lived. He was very curious now - what could she possibly be to have the Man in the Moon tell him to invade her dreams, when on any average day, he would alert the Guardians?

Pitch stretched out his hand, placing it on the forehead of April and taking a deep breath. His eyes narrowed and shined.

* * *

The dream world was never a place that made sense; especially in the mind of a mere four-year old. So it was no surprise to Pitch when he entered April's dreams and found the physical and spiritual being of the world distorted and lacking any logic. The ground moved in waves, but his feet stayed flat and the Earth solid. The sky was marble and swirling in colors of all shades, the trees were growing pizza and chocolate roses.

Pitch rose an eyebrow, choosing not to comment on the strange animals that swam around him and ran through his feet. With a deep breath, he temporarily changed his form, growing tentacles from his hair, reddening his eyes and hissing loudly with a snake-tongue to shoo the creatures away.

_That's better,_ he snorted, watching them scamper a way.

""Scuse me, Mister?" a familiar voice greeted, followed by a tug at his robe. Pitch rose an eyebrow at the sight of a little blue April, her hair darker than the pale shade of sky in her skin. Her eyes were kept their bright fern green.

"Pitch Black." He corrected, watching as the girl curiously took a step back to look up at the man.

"I'm January."

"January?" Pitch asked in disbelief. "Why not April?"

She shrugged. "We already have an April. She's not here though."

Before he could open his mouth to ask where April might be, a strange buzzing noise grew louder and louder, all until a red version of the little girl ran up, her arms out by her side knocking over any creature or thing that was in her path.

"Watchya doing, _Jani_?" she questioned, her voice mocking. She held her hands at her hips and stuck her tongue out. Pitch was taken back at the attitude portrayed in this version of April, a scowl on her face and the words 'troublemaker' almost written in the air above her.

"That's not my name _Ember_." January shot back, sticking her tongue out as well.

"That's not my name either!"

"Well if you think I'll let you use a name that's not mine then I'm using a name that's not yours! And you can't stop me!"

"Can too!"

"Can not!"

"Can too!"

"Can not!"

"Children!" Pitch finally snapped, rubbing his forehead.

The girls looked up at him simultaneously, mouths open from stopping mid-banter.

"I do not have time for this. Just tell me where April is and I'll be on my way."

"April isn't here," a yellow version popped out from behind January. She hid half her face behind the girl's shoulder, shyly looking up at the man with large eyes.

Pitch narrowed. He was tired of this little game - several children who were apparently dunked in a bowl of water colors keep appearing before him, every single one of them named a month that was not the one he was looking for. Were they trying to mock him?

"Then where is she?" he bit out, his menacing aura shaking the nerves of January and the yellow one. September remained undisturbed and pointed.

"She went through there,"

His view changed, and like the lack of logic in any child's dream, a pink door with green flowers printed on it appeared seemingly out of nowhere. The yellow April stepped out from behind January, her hands clasped behind her back.

"She . . . she went there with March. They was looking for something, but they never came out."

Could this be it? It had to be, the door to the child's subconscious that held all of her secrets. Her fears. Her knowledge.

"Then I will take my leave," Pitch said with a nod, straightening his attire and stepping towards the door.

"Good luck!" September beamed, stepping aside for the Nightmare King to walk by.

"Don't die," said January. The yellow one didn't say anything, instead looking on worriedly as the mysterious man disappeared.

* * *

It was dark, a welcome change from the bright discoloration on the other side of the door. Pitch felt that familiar rush - oh, how long had it been since he had traveled between the space of reality and dreams?

He blended comfortably in the shadows, and it was a long journey before he found what he was looking for. The moment in a child's life when they encounter the beginning of their worst fears, a small seedling that grew into their nightmares; monsters, noises, creatures or experiences.

Nothing would go wrong. Nothing even could; after all, he was born in this new life as the boogeyman to be this way. Pitch found it almost shameful to be surprised that he would find anything for the child to fear, but she was human. Of course she had fears. Now he just had to find it.

He unlocked the memory, bracing himself for whatever he was about to face.

_"Don't eat the candy," the girl said. I didn't understand. I wanted the candy so much, and she was eating all of it! Why couldn't I have some?_

_In this dark room, I've been kept here away from my mommy and daddy by scary strangers. I couldn't see anything, other than the metallic shimmer of the candy wrappers reflecting the light that came under the doors._

_"I'm hungry," I whined. It's been too long since I ate anything. I ate at the Christmas dinner and then somebody pulled a big bag over my head and threw me in a car. I don't know how long its been. But I'm cold in this room, and I'm hungry. The scary people will not listen to my cries._

_"I know. But you can't eat the candy." This girl had a tone that sounded like my mommy's. But she sounded like a kid, just like me. Older, but still a kid. She won't tell me her name, but I called her Pumpkin because I can see her orange shirt._

_"Why you get to eat the candy?"_

_"So that the bad guys think you're eating it."_

_I reached for it anyways, but my hand was slapped away._

_"Ow!" I held my hand, feeling the sting that burned like a bazillion suns. This big, fat, meanie!_

_I cried, and I wanted to scream._

_"Shhhh!" She hushed. "If they come back here and see you didn't eat the candy we'll be in big trouble."_

_"I'm so hungry!" I cried louder. She covered my mouth, but I cried and tried to scream louder anyways._

_"Fine, you can have one piece! But you can't eat too much it's really, really bad for you!"_

_I felt her put a chocolate in my hand and I unwrapped it hungrily. Mommy always said too many sweets were bad for you, but my tummy was already hurting._

_"Can I have more?" I asked, tearing up again when I finished the funny-tasting chocolate._

_"No!"_

_I was about to scream again, and this time I was going to kick and punch while I was at it. But the room suddenly got really bright, and my eyes hurt really bad. I covered my eyes and cried for my mommy again, but the stranger didn't say anything. Instead, he grabbed the other girl's arm and dragged her out of the room._

_"I got the kid, when are we making the trade?" the guy said into what I could understand to be a phony (phone). "Stop squirming kid, we're taking you back - so long as your parents stick to their side of the agreement."_

_I got up as fast as I could and tried to run out the door with her, Pumpkin crying as she was pulled. _

_"Don't be afraid!" She told me. But I was already afraid. So very, very afraid. Where is she going? Why is she leaving me?_

_It had been so dark my eyes hadn't adjusted yet, I slipped and fell; I wasn't fast enough to leave before the door slammed shut and I was engulfed by the darkness once again._

Pitch felt greatly disturbed as he watched the scene unfold before him. He wanted to look away, and didn't dare to think what could possibly be the story behind it. He managed to keep his composure - this was but a memory of a fear, a warped reality that created her life's first terror. Judging by her short size, she seemed to be around the age of two.

"Why are you here?" a voice questioned. He knew it well, since it was familiar and young, but laced with many other voices behind it. Pitch turned, finding the room he walked into to disappear and become replaced with a white world of nothing.

Standing before him was the April he recognized - yellow hair, fern green eyes, pale skin. She wore an orange a pink bow in her hair.

Her eyes were off. They weren't light and young, they were dull and distant. The lines of her face, usually stretched or pointed with curiosity and innocence, was plain and yet held an air of maturity you wouldn't find at the age of four.

This was the guardian of April's conciousness. Nothing like the Guardians, who protected children, this was a guardian who lived inside each and every living being. They protected what their mind could not understand, and soothed to the best of their abilities what the human mind couldn't handle.

"I am Pitch Black," he said darkly.

"I know who you are," She said, her English flawless, her voice much too . . . adult. "I am asking what you are doing here."

He stood there for a second, looking around the empty white zone as he pondered how to answer.

"I am the King of Nightmares, I may come into the dream world as I please."

"That was before you had forgotten your purpose as the Guardian of Fear. The keeper of nightmares. The messanger of disaster."

Pitch stepped forward, his frown increasing. "I am not the *Nain Rouge. I bring disaster, not witness it."

"And you are just proving my point." her voice was unnerving him. Looking at someone who looked so much like the little girl he knew, and yet speaking with this sort of tone that told him it wasn't her . . . he hated it.

"But you are not here to receive life lessons for who you are. You are here because you wish to unlock the memories hidden within the child's subconsciousness, yes? She does not fear and she does not dream with the Sandman's assistance. She does not believe like a normal child would and yet she can still see you."

"How do you know such things?"

"I am the guardian of this world. You should know better than anyone that I see and hear everything that April does. In summary: I am her."

_You are not the child I know,_ he growled internally, the darkness around him shifting violently. But he did know better. This girl in April's form was the mind's protector. She knew and saw everything with the wise knowledge of someone who had aged far more than she really had.

"I know what you can do," Pitch snapped. "You are not the first guardian of the conciousness I have encountered."

"I am since the Dark Ages."

"Answer my question!" He growled, his voice dripping with menace. "How do you know what I seek?"

"There are so many questions, and this world between her reality and dreams is the only answer. You're wondering why this infuriating child is different from all the rest? Because she isn't like the rest. At least, not on average."

"Explain."

"April's mind lives off the surface of reality. Her father is a man with power and money, it isn't uncommon that she would be targeted by burned employees or greedy humans who seek his money. She was never physically harmed traumatically, but her life is full of unanswered questions - neglectful parents or ones who do not speak to her properly about what is going on causes her to accept things the way they are without question."

"So this. This _memory_ I had just witnessed, was an actual kidnapping?"

"The only one to ever succeed. Attempts usually come around once or twice every few months, but none have fallen through. In this moment, the one where April was the most confused and scared, she was told not to be afraid. That is where I come in."

Confusing. This was all so very confusing - and Pitch didn't like to be confused. To be so . . . he couldn't place the feeling he felt right now. He wanted to shove it away. To burn it and never feel it again. He didn't like it at all, and whatever it was, it made him even more confused, thus making him even angrier.

"And what do you have to do with the Sandman? What do you have ANYTHING to do with April learning the meaning of fear?"

This April-look alike was not unperturbed by Pitch's threatening gaze. She remained still and unmoving, standing there with her arms by her side and a blank look on her face.

"I shut it off."

"You shut it off?"

"I shut it off. Breaking access to the Sandman and inevitably, you."

"But why?" he asked suspiciously.

"Has it really been that long since you've traveled between these worlds? The door that you came through to get here is always supposed to be opened. It shouldn't exist - the mind must flow freely so that it can learn and grow. She was told not to be afraid, thus triggering me to do exactly that. A child who had grown to accept things with no questions or answers is one who will believe almost everything she is told. That is why she can see you. Children speak of stories of the boogeyman whether they believe it or not; she'll believe anything mystical."

"If you blocked off I and the Sandman's abilities to alter her dreams, her mind can conjure up any random combination of the two. It can not be changed, whether it is good or bad!" The vile taste filled the back of his throat.

April could dream up anything and the Sandman could do nothing about it. She could have nightmares and be given no help to be released from them. A bright side, he thought.

"If it wasn't a double-edged sword," he thought aloud bitterly. Shielded from their spirits even he could do nothing. He couldn't give her nightmares if he wanted to. And at this moment, he _really _wanted to. What did he get himself into? Getting involved with this human child had given him the most stress-inducing migraines since, well, the Guardians!

"If you shut off her mind then turn it back on! I demand you to do so at once!"

"Why?" The girl challenged. "Does it bother you to have no control? You should be used to that by now."

"You will silence yourself! Whether or not a child's mind is cut from my abilities I am _still_ the Nightmare King!"

"So you have repeated. Constantly."

"I order you to do as I say!"

"A bit redundant use of words, isn't it?"

Pitch grit his teeth, his bitterness growing with a deep root of annoyance. He wanted to strangle this other worldly being. "You're mocking me."

Not-April tilted her head, her face remaining neutral, but suddenly her expression twitched as if she were amused. "You're catching on to this now?" she tsked. "I expected more from someone who calls himself a king."

His shadows moved violently, thrashing around in all directions, but she remained in place. It unnerved him, and the more his anger grew, the more violent his shadows reacted.

Finally, he threw his hands down and the shadows disappeared. The child merely blew a strand of hair from her face and watched as he turned to take his leave.

"I don't have time for this."

"Why? Because you're starting to realize that you care? For her?"

"I CARE FOR NO ONE!" Pitch burst, snapping around with his eyes ablaze and his voice laced with venom.

He didn't expect her to react, and she didn't. But this mad clone, this imposter of the little girl he knew, seemed to almost _smile_.

"It's understandable. After all, you are a guardian much like I am. It is within your instincts to protect those who have become attached too. As would any decent being."

"I am not attached. I care for nobody's well being but my own and I am certainly NOT a _GUARDIAN_ of ANY SORT!"

"Oh, I see, you prefer the cold and heartless Nightmare King. A being who must be guarded instead of guarding. Is that right?"

"Shut up."

"You are a guardian. The Guardian of Fear, but a guardian nonetheless."

"I said _shut up!_ You know nothing about me!"

"I know a lot more than you care to believe. You have forgotten who you truly are, Pitch Black. You have forgotten what it means to _be_ the Guardian of Fear and have let your hatred for what you are corrupt you're very soul."

"I have no soul. Stop speaking, I command you to silence your nonsense!" He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't strangle the object of his anger and so turned away, heading for the door he came through.

"I fear nothing! I feel nothing for a mere _child_!"

"You can't run from it, Black."

_"SHUT UP!"_

* * *

He found himself back in the darkness of April's room, her soft sleeping breaths giving his ears a twitch as the volume of his fast breathing increased. One glance at the sleeping girl's face gave him a breath of relief - relief that he was out of that world and relief that she was here safe and sound. She was undisturbed and though it felt as if hours had passed, her clock had moved forward by just a few minutes.

And he hated that he was relieved that she was okay. He needed to get out of here. He needed to get away and remember who he was. He could not love. He could not care. He was a man of fear and misery and nothing could ever change that.

Damn this! he growled, the bitter taste back in his throat. He slid through her window in such a rush that he became light-headed, and cast himself off into the wind.

_Damn this all!_

* * *

A/N: Wow, that came out . . . a lot more intense then I intended, lol sorry if you were expecting really cutesy things and stuff. That'll come next chapter, promise :)

Next Chapter: _Anger_  
_When April kicks a boy in the shin because he told her the Easter Bunny wasn't real, (thus, grounding her) Pitch makes the mistake of saying he isn't real either . . ._


	7. Anger

AN: I wrote two different chapters, this one, and one that takes place before this one. Which was a complete accident, I was thinking that this chapter wouldn't have much and so I added a little Pitch Black bit a the beginning and that turned into a whole other chapter and . . . yeah. I didn't post that one first because for one, I promised this one and for another, it was unplanned, thus giving you guys a 'BONUS' chapter.

So expect a quick update in a couple of days! And be sure to review and tell me what you like, what you dislike, you know the like. Hahaha (see what I did there?)

_**Special Thanks To:**_

**Huddybuddy**

**Snickerdoodle22**

**FearlessAndRed:** Why thank you! I'm glad this story is addictive as you say! xD

**Frost (Chapters 5&6)**

**The One Named MoonLight: **I don't think anyone could keep their sanity if they were to enter a child's dreamworld, hahaha

**Mystichawk:** Honestly, that was sort of a last minute add-in as I thought about what to write next. The entire idea was inspired by an episode of _American Dragon: Jake Long _(which I hadn't seen in such a long time!) But as you think about it, your mind sort of has a guardian in real life, especially for children and creates defense mechanisms to deal with traumas :)

**Abby-Flourite**

**MoonPie**

**Guest**

** muggleborn. dragon. ryder **(Had to put the spaces because the Doc Manager kept reading it as a spam link)

**Tierny Greyleaf**

**Ryuzuki Junrei (Chapter 1)**

**D.D. Natanya **

* * *

_-x-_

_The Meaning of Fear_

_-x-_

* * *

**Anger**

_Like mother like daughter._

April was the spitting image of her mother; with short, honey blonde hair and a rounded face. Her age was the cause of her pointed chin, but she had daughter's high cheekbones and button nose. The one thing Pitch guessed April inherited from her father was her eyes - instead of the bright fern green, it was a dull greyish blue.

He wasn't surprised when he found the woman handing April over to a daycare that Wednesday morning, a necessary thing since she had to work from eight to three. Though she couldn't afford a baby sitter, April's mother had a friend in the daycare business that gave her a generous discount.

And so, Pitch spent half of the day away from the holding place of tons of other screaming, snot-nosed children, and instead used it to patrol the area of White Plains, which was very different compared to April's father's beautiful home in Sleepy Hollow.

* * *

_I hate him! I hate him! I hate him!_

April stomped her food and held her ground, staring up the big bully in front of her as he continued to laugh at her bunny shirt.

April never liked daycare on Wednesdays. Wednesdays were always the days the evil Jacob Anderson came and he was just the meanest, most biggest, pig-headed and loud-mouthed dummy in all of the planet! He always picked on her! Like pulling her pigtails or knocking down the buildings she made from building blocks.

And now he was making fun of her easter bunny shirt!

Her mommy gave her this shirt as a special present after coming back home, and he was laughing at it! Saying it was a 'ragged hand-me-down' that belonged in the garbage.

Jacob Anderson was a bigger than big, brown-haired six-year-old who thought he was the king of Sunnybee Daycare just because his daddy owned it. He did what he wanted and bullied the other kids for the fun of it. His target was always April though whenever he had the chance, because she was just a 'little insect' who didn't know when she needed to get squished. But April wasn't scared, of course. She just got very, very angry when he was around.

And did the grown ups do anything about it? Oh, no. And not because they were scared of him, because he can put on a big, innocent smile and charm them with his large blue eyes.

"You shut up you _ob-no-scious_ butt-head!" she yelled as she tried to hold back her tears. The word 'obnoxious' was what she was trying to pronounce, but at the moment she was too upset to try to say the big word correctly.

"Why don't you make me, April _Fool_?" Jacob said with a sneer.

"I hope the Easter Bunny puts rotten eggs in your shoes next year!" Oooh, if her Nightlight were here she would tell him to beat this boy up!

"The Easter Bunny isn't real, DOI!"

That's it! Make fun of her shirt, FINE! Make fun of her mommy, oh she'll get angry! But tell her the Easter Bunny isn't real?

BIG mistake.

April deadpanned, her entire body straightening as her eyes narrowed in a way much like her Nightlight did the other day he scolded her for her bad behavior.

"The Easter Bunny IS real!"

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Is NOT!"

"IS TOO!"

Jacob began to dance foolishly around her, putting his hands up on the sides of her head as if mocking the look of a bunny as he hopped from leg to leg. "The Easter Bunny isn't real~! The Easter Bunny isn't real~!" he sang.

April took a deep breath and grunted angrily as she began to cry from the frustration.

"And you want to know something else?" Jacob laughed. "You're friend _Nightlight_ isn't real either! I heard you talk about him earlier to your stupid stuffed animal friends. A man who can make horses ride in the sky? You're a big, fat liar!"

Finally, April snapped her head to the boy, her tears stopping abruptly. "Only I'M allowed to call him Nightlight! His name is PITCH BLACK and I can ask him to beat you up if you don't stop it RIGHT NOW!"

Jacob stepped into her face with a devilish grin. "Ooooh, is that so? Well what is he gonna do to me?" he paused, "That's right, NOTHING! Because _Nightlight _isn't real either!"

"Take. That. Back."

"Or what?" Jacob challenged.

April looked up at the boys face. "My mommy said I shouldn't hit people."

"Too bad," Jacob said before shoving her shoulder.

Smiling innocently, as if the offending action didn't bother her, she drew her leg back and swung it up.

"MOMMY NEVER SAID I COULDN'T KICK YOU!"

* * *

When Pitch arrived back at the apartment, the sun had already set. He slipped through the window to April's room and saw her sitting on her bed; arms folded, legs crossed. And a very un-cute expression on her face that involved her glaring at the spot where the small tv was supposed to be.

He could sense the baby-rage rolling off of her in waves and looked at her pointedly. He considered just slipping back out the window, not wishing to have a repeat of the last time this particular child threw a hissy fit in his company.

"Meanie-head Jacob Anderson, the Easter Bunny _is_ real . . ." She muttered, stopping Pitch from backing out the way he came.

Ahh. She was a believer in ol'Bunnymund, was she?

Another chance had been presented to Pitch Black, and for a moment, as the child pouted and occasionally kicked out into the thin air, he started thinking. The child practically believed everything she was told without question, and as he taught her who the Boogeyman was, why not take away her belief in the giant, leaping puffball while he was at it?

And maybe, just maybe, that disbelief will spread. And soon there will be no Christmas or Easter, and as she grew older the Tooth Fairy would have a chance at her at all!

"What happened, little one?" he said, doing his best to use a soft tone that was more fake than he realized. April jumped at his voice and twisted around to face Pitch, his arms crossed as he gave her a small, sly grin.

She sniffed and rubbed her red nose. "I got _gwounded_, so Mommy took away my tv."

"Oh, no!" Feigning sympathy, Pitch sat next to the little girl and patted her shoulder lightly. "Why ever would she do that?"

Slamming a fist down on her bed, April felt angry just thinking about what had happened earlier that day and huffed, as if giving herself time to scream. "Because that big, dum, dummy head Jacob said the Easter Bunny isn't real! SO I KICKED HIM AND I'M _NOT_ SORRY!"

This girl never ceased to amaze him sometimes. To think that this flower child could do harm to someone was borderline ridiculous. But Pitch knew better than to underestimate his opponent.

"The Easter Bunny," he said with disdain, not being able to help the face he made at the name, "Is _not_ real. This Jacob is right."

He did _not_ just say that! April thought in a nutshell as she stared at her Nightlight in absolute shock. "NO!" she shouted. "HE IS TOO REAL! YOU'RE A LIAR!"

Offended at her tone, Pitch stood tall to his feet and stared down the lip-quivering four-year old.

"I am not lying. The Easter Bunny is like a character in a storybook. He. Is not. REAL."

Nearly slipping as she too stood, bouncing slightly on top of her bed, April clenched her fist and pointed at Pitch with her other hand.

"HE IS TOO REAL!"

"He is NOT. Now sit down you foolish child and believe what I have to say! I am right, and you are _wrong_."

April swallowed hard, her eyes full of hurt as tears spilt over her cheeks. They looked completely betrayed.

In that split second, a flicker of something burned inside of Pitch black. He couldn't place the foreign feeling, but he didn't like it. The way April was looking at him, as if he had told her he slaughtered the giant rabbit himself, felt . . .

He shook his head, his lips tightening into a thin line as he towered over the small youth.

"No. I know your lying! You and Stupid Jacob Anderson are lying!"

"What do you know?" Pitch argued. "Have you seen the real Easter Bunny? Have you?"

She paused, her body shaking as she hiccupped. "N-No."

"Than how could you possibly know he exists!"

"Because I just do!"

He stepped back at the outburst. The child hadn't missed a beat in her answer as she looked at him with an expression he had never seen before. His mouth parted, but he couldn't speak.

"I loves the Easter Bunny because he gives me my daddy and then daddy takes me to all the bestest places in the world!"

Pitch didn't expect it to turn out this way. To be tongue-tied and outspoken by a mere four-year old. But he wouldn't back down. He couldn't. Not after he had gotten this far. He had to, he _had_ to convince this girl that the Easter Bunny wasn't real. Because if she stopped believing in him, then she'll stop believing in Santa Clause, and then the Tooth Fairy, and so on.

She'll only believe in him, the one and only Pitch Black.

He stared her down, lowering his face to her level and looked her straight in the eye.

"Believe me when I say this: The Easter Bunny. Isn't. Real."

With a deep intake of breath, April climbed down from her bed and ran to her bedroom door. Pitch figured that she would leave to go cry away from him, but she stopped, looked back, and ran back up to him. She glared at him and stuck out her tongue.

And before Pitch could react, April swung her little foot and kicked him right in the shin.

Not expecting the violent action, and more surprised than actually being hurt, Pitch fell over as a small sting made its way up his leg. He held the sore spot, looking up at the child in absolute shock as she stuck her little reddened nose in the air.

"YOU'RE A WEENIE!"

And so, not for the first time, Pitch Black left with the bitter taste of failure. The kicked shin was new though.

* * *

A/N: Good luck to all of those going back to school! I still have some extra classes to finish up before I officially graduate (I'm very disappointed with myself for not getting it done over the summer). Hopefully you guys don't get so swamped with work and get some free time to read, play, write, yadda, yadda!

*Oh! And because I forgot to put this note at the end of the last chapter, the **Nain Rouge(sp?) **is a mythical being (usually a red dwarf or a child-form) who is compelled to witness major events in time - mainly, disasters. So when April's conscience called Pitch a 'messenger of disaster' he pointed out that he wasn't the Nain Rouge (who witnesses disasters in comparison to him who supposedly _causes_ disasters)

And be sure to review~ You know you want tooooooo!

_Next Time in our Bonus Chapter: Contempt_  
Pitch takes a trip to his old lair in Burgess to think deeply about what he had learned after visiting April's dream world. While there, he runs into our beloved guest star Jack Frost, and the two have a conversation about what it means to be the spirits they are. (Another sort of serious chapter, don't worry we get some cute bonding after this one! :)


	8. BONUS - Contempt

AN: Here it is, the BONUS chapter that was literally a complete accident. Oh well, haha that just means more chapters for you! xD And Jack Frost. Nobody can ever get enough of the beautiful Jack Frost!

Just want everyone to know/remember that these events took place _before_ the last chapter, and the next chapter continues on normally afterwards. Just so that's clear :)

_**Special Thanks To:**_

**Mystichawk**: You'll find out what she meant by that next chapter! :)

**KoalaCupcake:** What she thinks of the other Guardians will come soon in the future! In fact, (like above) you'll have to wait 'till next chapter and another guest starring Guardian may make an appearance :)

**Abby-Flourite**: I know, I never thought children at such a young age could be so funny!

**AllieSnow:** There's a 70's special about Jack Frost!? WHY HAVEN'T I HEARD OF THIS?

**FearlessAndRed:** You are very welcome! I try to make it a point that I am grateful for each and every one of my reviewers :)

**Tierny Greyleaf:** I remember when a kid at my school tried to tell me the Easter Bunny wasn't real. I looked them straight in the eye and, I kid you not, said, "I will hire him to eat you and then we'll see who's not real anymore," And he cried and I got sent to the principle's office.

* * *

_-x-_

_The Meaning of Fear_

_-x-_

* * *

**Contempt**

_"You can not run from fear, Jack."_

That humiliating night two years ago left nothing but scarred pride. When he was forcibly dragged down into his own lair; when he was held prisoners by his own creations.

And he was kept there for a long while - but it could only be so long before the creations could dominate their creator. He still had power. Mind you, it was very little power, but just enough for him to recognize that he had opened his mind in a moment's panic only to be consumed by the dark horrors of his ways.

When he was free, he never returned to that place again.

But after a night that left Pitch Black fairly disturbed and ultimately powerless, here he was. He was compelled to come back here, to relive the one other time he felt hopeless to his own fate.

The lair had collected dust and other crawling creatures during his absence. Despite his title, Pitch actually liked to keep a decent and clean setting. Seeing it in its current state gave him a unpleasant feeling. The metallic globe placed in the middle of the floor had lost its polish, and the tiny lights tracking his fearlings dim and worn. Few cages, previously the holding cells of millions of fairies, had fallen from succumbing to the rust formed by the moist air some time ago.

Another figure appeared long after he was already aware of their presence. On any normal day he would have left, on others would have stayed to taunt the winter spirit. But today, this day of all days, he didn't feel any will to do anything.

So he stayed, and as the room increased it's chill, and the walls slowly covered with frost, he merely swiped at his globe with a single finger and grimaced at the amount of dust and grime.

The second Jack had appeared, the ground beneath froze over under his bare feet. Pitch turned his head slightly, glancing at the boy from the corner of his eye.

"What do you want, Frost?"

"Eh, just checking out what the scary Boogeyman is doing." He said casually, stepping cautiously into the light. Pitch turned away and looked up, his skylight giving him a lovely view of the stars.

"I'm not hear to mess with your little friend, if that's why you're here."

He didn't see it, but could feel the sudden anger Jack managed to contain. He was always over protective when it came to Jamie. Pitch knew to tread lightly unless he wanted to start something.

"And why would you?" Jack questioned, keeping his voice calm and light. "You tried once before, but we both know how that ended, don't we?"

Ouch.

Pitch grit his teeth, his eyes narrowing as he continued to face away from the winter spirit. If he even looked at him now, daring to bring up that bit of humiliation in his life, he would surely lose himself. He wanted to stay deep in thought, he wanted this blue nuisance to just shut up and leave and let him be alone.

"Did I strike a nerve?" Jack asked coolly as he cocked his head to the side. Pitch took a deep intake of breath and finally turned to face the bane of his existence. It was almost nice to know that though he had gone through some very odd and unwanted changes recently, he still held a deep contempt for this boy.

"Sorry, I wasn't listening."

Jack snorted, unbelieving and hopped on one of the boulders. Pitch could see that the boy remained cautious and wary of him, however, he was slightly laid back and held a sort of arrogance about himself. As if he knew that Pitch wouldn't make a move to try to harm him. At the moment.

"I actually have a question for you, Frost," Pitch started taking this almost peaceful moment between them to his advantage.

"And what could you possibly want from me?"

The man hesitated, and for a moment Jack was very curious at the face Pitch made as he paced his globe until reaching the other side. He leaned against the top, propping his chin to rest on his hand and leaving the other arm to rest across the useless scrap of metal.

"What made you realize that you were a true Guardian?" he inquired. "How did you know what it truly meant to be Jack Frost, the Guardian of" - at this he wiggled out his fingers, as if the next words coming out of his mouth disgusted him - "_fun_ and _happiness_ and the like?"

It was a question Jack couldn't help but become baffled with. Where was this coming from? Why would Pitch Black care about what made him who he is?

In the three seconds he didn't answer, Jack slowly shifted as he peered closely at the Nightmare King.

"I mean," he continued. "When we first officially met, you had no idea who you were. Three _hundred_ years and you were clueless."

Jack sat still for a moment. Something must have happened, he didn't know what, but this Pitch was very different from the one he was used to. He could see it in his eyes. The cold, hardened stone of gold was softened and resembled a lighthearted shade of melted butterscotch and honey.

"I realized my purpose," he started as he slowly got to his feet. "When you threatened Jamie."

Pitch rose a brow in question. Jack sighed.

"Children can't take pressure as well as adults. _For what troubles a grown-up, never troubles a child._" he quoted smoothly from _Peter Pan_. "When you threatened Jamie, I knew I had to do something to protect him. And so, I turned your defeat into some sort of game."

Fairly simple, and easy to understand. But Pitch frowned, left unsatisfied with the answer.

To _protect_ the idiotic child? How disappointing. He felt himself abashed at thinking this winter nuisance could help him at all. Instead of clearing his thoughts, Pitch was left with more questions.

Little April's dreams had left him with nothing but more trouble. More than it's worth! It made him think about things he didn't want to think about!

_"It's understandable. After all, you are a guardian much like I am."_

_"You have forgotten who you truly are, Pitch Black."_

"That was . . ." he paused. "Not helpful at all. Not surprising." he exaggerated a sigh, and swept himself off the globe. He dusted himself off and gave a mock salute with two fingers.

"I'll be taking my leave now."

"Why did you want to know?" Jack stopped him. Pitch turned in question.

"Does it matter?"

"Yes." he said. "There's something different about you. I don't know what but . . ."

Pitch didn't like this. If word spread that he was somehow different, the Guardians would be on his behind for ages until they got answers. And he really didn't want that - especially not before he finally got the chance to teach April the meaning of fear.

"Oh, I'm just the same, Frost," he grinned. "I'm just feeling curious today, is all. What could be different?" He had been practically dormant these past two years, a slight change shouldn't be surprising, no matter what it was.

"Now if you'll excuse me," he morphed into a smoke like substance, surrounding Jack who had pulled up his guard. "I've got places to go. Children to scare; dreams to destroy . . ."

And before Jack could let out a word of protest, Pitch Black was gone.

* * *

A/N: Ahh, I'm loving these little serious talks between Pitch and other worldly beings. It's like I'm setting him on a journey of self discovery! xD

I hope you liked this little bonus chapter. And by bonus I mean unplanned. Literally this one came out of nowhere and was supposed to be a short beginning for the last chapter. But I got carried away with writing like I always do, and besides, who doesn't love a surprise appearance from Jack Frost? I did promise a guest star from all the guardians (which weren't much compared to what I've got now).

So I hope you enjoyed and be sure to review! Pleeeaaaase! :)

_Next Chapter:_ _Sick  
As the weather worsens a few days into the chilly month of December, April gets sick and even Pitch doesn't find it within himself to bother her. So what does he do instead? Tell her a bedtime story that has a few twisted facts about his almost-take over two years previous . . . and unintentionally bringing back the child's belief in the man of wonder._


	9. Sick

AN: Sorry, again, for the long wait (I've said this way too much, I know) But I haven't been feeling so good recently (heh, how ironic is that considering the theme of this chapter?). Mainly because I'm not sleeping well but bleh. Does anyone have any suggestions to help with that? Like a certain drink or an essential oil mix I can make? I've been falling asleep during the day and have like no energy to do anything, which is bad because it's preventing me from taking care of my cousins properly. Thank God for weekends, lol

Anyways, I'm a bit disappointed with this story, mainly because I was blocked on how I was going to have Pitch retell his almost-take over, and then just decided to opt it out and add in the bit with our next Guest Star. I am, however, trying to make a little shadow-puppet comic about how he tells the story, which I will be posting on my FACEBOOK PAGE (Search: LunaBell08) in the far future.

_**Special Thanks To:**_

**FearlessAndRed**

**Mystichawk**

**i love all yaoi**

**Frost**

**The One Named MoonLight:** Yeah,, but I tried not make him seem _too_ dark, though it was sort of the goal since the 'roles' are switched in this story (the villain being our main guy and the hero being our opposing force). It doesn't help that Jack Frost can be pretty arrogant and can't help throwing a bit of sass back at Pitch like he did to him in the movie, lol

**Pitch:** O.O HI PITCH! *waves excitedly* (Haha, how funny. Though I do have to protest, I don't think Pitch actually _hates_ children so to speak, just finds himself superior to them, lol)

"Speaking."

_Thoughts _(Normally)

_/special speech for the Man in the Moon/these represent feelings more or less/considering that we don't hear Manny speak/_

* * *

_-x-_

_The Meaning of Fear_

_-x-_

* * *

**Sick**

_"A-A . . . a-CHOO!"_

Pitch felt a sickening twist in his stomach in the middle of his sulking on the roof of April's home. He figured that it was because Jack Frost had finally crossed through New York, and he wasn't grateful at all for the worsened weather that - though given a snow day for the school kids - was chilling to the bone. He didn't wish to run into the boy, and not just because he didn't want to see Frost twice in less than two weeks, but because Pitch didn't want him growing suspicious of his company around a child's home. Jack would gather the Guardians if he found out about the Nightmare King's constant presence around the same child in attempt to keep him from harming her.

The little bundle of misery was giving him enough of a migraine as it was, he didn't need any spirits to add on to it.

Three days into December, the light sheets of snow and ice from the last few months were nothing compared to the sudden blankets hiding the black streets and old, salted sidewalks. It was weather that produced the nastiest of colds to some of the unfortunate children, and that included his four-year-old menace.

After another whine came from the girl's window as she complained about wanting ice cream from her nanny, Pitch gave a sigh of frustration and flew as a cloud of shadows into her room. He stayed in this state as the number x (he lost count) nanny scowled and practically threw a fit as she left. The ever stubborn April was wrapped up in her blankets, sitting up like a scrunched up caterpillar. A small hole surrounded by the fabric kept her face free, with her little fingers popping out from under her chin to grasp the bottom edge.

Pitch rolled his eyes at her pouty display. She caught site of him as he morphed back into his normal form and gave him a disgruntled look.

"Oh, don't be like that." Pitch droned, his hands behind his back as he stalked forward. April 'hmphed!' and turned away with a sniff.

"I'm not talking to you," she said.

The small (and exaggerated) cold the child caught had put yet another hold on one of Pitch's following plans. Those unpleasant feelings rose up in him again as he thought of the wrapped, teeth-rotting goodies he planned to give her, and soon dispersed as he saw that April was in absolutely no condition to take in any fear-inducing activities today. Later, sometime in the far, far future, Pitch would look back at this moment and find that he used April's illness as an excuse not go through with this possibly heartless plan of his.

Right now, he allowed the treats to be hidden away within his attire and saved for another day.

"Fine," Pitch sang, turning with every intention to leave. It wasn't his responsibility to take care of the sick child. He had plenty of other children to terrorize -

The sound of a wheezing cough stopped him in his tracks.

There it was again, those unpleasant feelings rising within the pit of his stomach. What was this, and why wouldn't it just _go away_?

The small cough followed by a fit of sneezing and chattering teeth, and soon Pitch found himself by April's side before he could stop himself.

"Why do you care so much about the Easter Bunny?" he blurted, "Why is he so special?"

April finally turned to face Pitch, wiping her runny nose on her blanket and sniffing again. "He's my favorite."

"Why?" he pressed.

April shrugged, her lips still turned into an unfitting frown. "Because I asked him to let me be with Daddy on Easter, and he gave him to me for the _whole_ day. And Daddy took me to the bestest places in the whole-wide world."

Pitch didn't let his surprise show when he learned that April did indeed notice her father constantly missing from her life. He didn't even think she noticed. In fact, he thought she was just used to it, if her indifference at hearing her father immediately working after his return was anything to go by.

"Why not just ask No-" She wouldn't know the name North, "er - _Santa Claus_ to have your father for Christmas?" It felt ridiculous asking such nonsense questions. Why would he care? He didn't care if she asked these moronic, show-off Guardians if they got her socks for her left foot!

April seemed to deflate completely. Pitch was bemused with her reaction at the mention of North, until the girl muttered something that would have made him happy with any other child.

"Because he isn't real."

On any normal day, Pitch would have been delighted to hear those words leave a mere four-year-old's mouth. But the look on April's face was similar to the one she had given him - one of absolute betrayal. He didn't have to ask directly why April would say such a thing - why she thought Santa Clause didn't exist.

_Because she _did_ ask him._

She asked for her father to be with her for Christmas, and for the first time, Pitch heard a wish that hadn't been fulfilled by jolly ol'North.

And he was ecstatic!

For a good two seconds. Then . . . then he suddenly felt sick, looking at the little girl who had lost the wonder of Christmas because she didn't get the one thing she asked for.

_What is wrong with me?_ Pitch asked himself. These _feelings_ welling up inside of him . . . they were no good. No good at all. He was just having an off day, that's all. He told himself, _Just having an off day_.

Deciding to vanquish the thoughts that will only cause him more trouble, Pitch regained his composure.

"_Santa_," he said, immediately wishing the childish name could be scraped off his tongue, "isn't as wonderful as he's made out to be anyway. So enough woeful spirits, foolish child; it doesn't suit you."

April suddenly gave a small giggle, hiding her face in her blankets as Pitch gave her a curious stare.

"What?" he snapped.

"How do you know what Santa is like?"

"That is none of your concern." he said quickly, cursing his mistake. "Now go to sleep, I won't tolerate your nose fluids around me and you'll only be more trouble if you stay unwell."

April sunk into her sheets as Pitch habitually fixed her blanket so that she wasn't a giant, pink burrito.

"Wait!" April grasped his robe before he could get away.

"What now?" Pitch sighed impatiently. He wanted to leave, he could be doing other things at this moment!

"Tell me a bed time story!"

"Excuse me?" he hissed, looking around as to make sure no one heard this mad child ask him such a question.

"I can't sleep." she chirped. "Can you tell me a story? Please?"

"I don't know any stories."

"Anything then!"

A child-like image of himself popped into Pitch's head, and with his irritation, the child threw an agitated fit that refused to surface on his outside composure. He certainly needed the girl to just lay down and sleep, otherwise he would never be able to leave.

Gritting his teeth together, Pitch finally gave up and sat on the nanny's chair placed next to the bed. He thought of different things; Little Red getting eaten by a wolf; Goldilocks getting mauled by bears; how about the story of Cinderella chopping off her own foot to avoid marrying the prince?

No, no, none of those were any good.

"A bed time story with the Easter Bunny!" April piped up, jumping in place excitedly. Pitch groaned and rubbed his temple.

"Fine, fine." he said. "I'll tell you a story that _has_ the Easter Bunny in it."

"Yay!"

He pointed at her with a stern look. "But you have to be quiet and go to sleep either during or right after the story."

She nodded, determined. "Ye-sir!"

Pitch gave another agitated sigh, slumping his shoulders and sluggishly sitting back in his seat.

He never told any child a story before, how was he supposed to start?

"Once upon a time . . ." April started for him, growing impatient and speaking to him as if _he_ were the five-year old.

"Hush!" he snapped. She rolled her eyes and snuggled under her sheets.

Pitch took a deep breath. "Once upon a time . . . in a land far, far away . . ." he started slowly, waving his hands as he thought of what to say.

"There was a dark king. His name was . . . Nightlight." He rolled his eyes at the irony, using the girl's nickname to cover up his own. This was just a story after all, and the image of the scrawny skeleton-like boy that plagued his mind would be replaced with his own in the little girl's eyes.

"He was frighteningly charming. Handsome, mysterious . . ." Pitch grinned to himself, slicking back his hair as he thought of more flattering ways to describe himself. April's risen eyebrow, however, snapped him out of his thoughts and he cleared his throat.

"Anyway, he was the most powerful being in all the universe!"

"This is boring!" April sneezed and shivered, cuddling under her blankets more. "When does Bunny come in?"

Glowering at the child, Pitch straightened his back. "He comes in later, but if you keep interrupting me, I'm not going to give you a story at all!"

Frowning, the child nodded. "I sorry."

"No more interruptions?" he assured.

"No more eruptions," she replied.

Not bothering to correct her, Pitch continued. instinctively, he swirled his hands in the air between them, creating a small cloud of sparkling dust. It shifted in the air, creating beautiful shapes and shadow puppets to play out his story.

"He worked alongside many others during the night, like the Sandman, the Guardian of Dreams."

"Oooh," April shook, watching as the black sand formed the shape of a funny little man with hair the branched out like the sun.

* * *

Something was very, very . . . not entirely wrong, but . . . _wrong_.

Looking curiously at the globe, the center and main heart of his toy factory, North held a breath as he noticed the shadows looming over a small area around the U.S.A. With an advance in his technology (a necessary precaution since the increase of danger from Pitch Black), allowing him to expand the view of the globe, he noticed that the focus of nightmares was thick and dark around the state of New York compared to anywhere else.

It worried him. Pitch had been but a nuisance ever since he escape his own imprisonment, staying on the down low and no doubt planning something sinister, but constant. Was this it? Was the Boogeyman finally making his move for revenge?

And then something flickered. A tiny, yellow light appeared right there in the middle of the swirling darkness. He rose an eyebrow, clicking a few buttons on his dashboard.

"_Vhat _is dis?" he asked himself quietly, before gasping as the flickering light suddenly shined bright, and held itself in place. It never went out.

Confused, and silently wondering if it was just a new child introduced to the wonders of Santa Clause, North quickly pulled up his files to mentally greet the new addition.

But what he found there, surprised him. Meeting him was a familiar little girl - he never forgot the face of a child - with large curly blonde hair and bright green eyes. In her smiling picture, the little girl hugged a stuffed rabbit to her cheek tightly.

_Name: April Joy Darling  
Age: 4  
Current Residence: White Plains, New York  
Belief Info: April J. Darling comes from a family of divorce. She is an only child and now shifts between housing areas in White Plains, New York and Sleepy Hollow, New York. She had lost her light at the age of three when she asked to spend Christmas time with her father and it did not follow through. _

North couldn't help but frown as he read the last bit of information. Oh yeah, he remembered little April. For such a young child, she was fairly smart for her age. Very curious, very sweet, April loved Christmas after spending it with her mother during her first two years. At the age of three she was already mentally listing the things she wanted in the month of October: A swing set for her back yard, a pot for the new flowers her nanny had given her, a green shovel, and a beanie baby rabbit. But come December, her mind had changed. And she wished for something that was quite beyond Father Christmas's reach: To spend time with her ever-so-busy father.

He lost her light that morning. She ran down her stairs, excited and fully expecting to see her father waiting for her, only to be disappointed.

North always remembered when he couldn't fulfill something for a child, especially when it was something that seemed so small. But he, like the other spirits of holidays, could not interfere with the life of a grown-up. He was powerless.

He never expected to see her light brought back to the surface of his globe again. Especially in the midst of Pitch Black's darkness.

"Ah, Man in Moon! It has been a vhile, old friend," North greeted through his sky light. The moonlight flickered, obviously reading his thoughts and concerns.

"_Vhat?_"

It flickered again.

_/worry not/all is well/no danger shall come to the child/_

His eyes narrowed. With a tilt of his head, North looked back up at the globe.

What could have possibly happened to bring April's belief in him again?

* * *

"And with a _woosh_! Pitch Bla - I mean - Nightlight, fell hard. But he would not be defeated, not by this blue boy, Jack Frost. _'Time for some fun'_ he said with a 'bout of laughter. And with a swish of his hand, the last of those _pesky Guardians_ was gone! From that night forward, the world was his, and all the humans of the Earth coward before the name -"

Pitch paused, his ears perked at the sound of light snores coming from the child's bed. He turned and realized that he been caught up in his own story-telling. April was sleeping soundly, curled up and snuggled tightly into her blankets. Her light breathing suggested that she had been out for some time, causing Pitch to gulp and straighten himself as he refused to think of how foolish he was acting. Just now, he noticed the stuffed rabbit still in his hand, which was being used to help show the flying actions as he swooshed around the bedroom.

Holding that atrocity with two fingers in front of his face, Pitch grimaced and looked back and forth between the girl and the battered animal toy in his hand. What was so special about this damn toy? He always saw her with it, and earlier, April had protested - quite loudly - at his, er, _Nightlight's_ defeat of the Easter bunny. Seeing as how she would not let him continue and let the subject go, Pitch was forced to change the story - The Easter bunny was now Nightlight's accomplice and lived happily ever.

He had half a mind to toss this stupid thing out and claim that he knew not where it went the next morning. However, he didn't wish to listen to the child's screams and cries, and so decided against it. He quietly walked until he was by her bedside, and tucked the animal under her arm before he could change his mind.

"Foolish child. Can't even stay awake to hear the end of the story." he muttered to himself. He felt her forehead, abashed at the action as soon as he did it, and snapped his hand away.

The girl's head was a little warm, still a low-grade fever, but better than it had been when he first arrived. It bothered him that he was relieved, and nearly smacked himself.

"I have no concern for her health," he told himself before crouching down.

Poking the stuffed rabbit, Pitch sighed.

"For the first time in hundreds of years, Pitch Black, of all beings, was believed in."


	10. Envious

AN: It feels like forever since I've updated, mainly because I spent the last weekend at the very first official Salt Lake Utah comic con (and my first ever, it's gonna be a while before I stop bragging about it xD) and haven't had time to do anything but tell my parents about it, show them the things I bought and autographs/pictures I took, and then head straight to bed because after months of just sitting on my laptop, I've been walking and standing for hours.

The most fun. Exhausting. Most amazing thing. That has ever happened to me since returning to the states.

*screams*

_**Special Thanks To:**_

**The One Named Moonlight**

**chocykitty**

**The Boogerman**

**K-star**

**Mystichawk: **Wow, thank you so much for the remedy! I haven't had the chance to try it yet - I'm fresh out of mint tea, lol, but that sounds freakin' delicious!

**Frost**

**Pitch**: You just made me laugh out loud xD

**Satoshistar**: Why thank you, I try my best :)

* * *

_-x-_

_The Meaning of Fear_

_-x-_

* * *

**Envious**

_The man with the green eyes._

It was slightly disappointing to find that the child did indeed inherit such beautiful eyes from her father. Pitch wasn't sure why though; because it seemed more elegant if it was maternal? Or because eyes were the windows to the soul, and April held a warm, gooey feeling whilst her father's eyes were hardened and cold?

The man was tall, with dark blond hair slicked back neatly and finished with a suit and tie. He wore square, grey-colored glasses on the bridge of his nose. Despite having her mother's face, the resemblance between father and daughter was painfully obvious between the expressions they made; from the shape of their lips as it turned up in a smile to the dimples adorning their cheeks. The attitude - edged around April's four years of child innocence - was similar as well. A small detail, one that Pitch had never bothered to think about before, was the birth mark both shared on the side of their neck. It was light, and barely noticable, but with careful observation you could spot it easily.

"Daddy!" April cheered, jumping up and down as the man opened her bedroom door.

Pitch's eyes narrowed from the window. He was just about to open it when the stranger walked in to embrace his daughter and toss her in the air. Her giggles could be heard as the two played, and Pitch suddenly felt sick to his stomach.

_Why is she so happy?_

He scoffed at the disgusting display of joy. How dare she have fun in front of him!

As the two humans settled down, they exchanged muffled words that Pitch didn't bother to interpret. Mr. Darling (the name Pitch secretly mocked, for it was such a girly name for an American man) made a motion with his hand over the girl's head, as if commenting on how tall she may have gotten.

"My, how you've grown!" Pitch imitated, flaunting his hands in a girly fashion as his voice rose a few octaves higher. "_Please_," he finished normally. Of course the child had grown. That's what happens over time and you're not there to witness it!

* * *

April skipped happily as she held on to her father's hand. She was all nice and bundled up, with her thick pink jacket and dark green scarf. Her daddy even bought her a new hat at one of the booths set up in town! Even though her nose was pink, and she had to sniffle because of the cold, the little girl couldn't feel any happier.

All of New York was celebrating the Christmas spirit, with lights drawn on every building and the street lamps turning from red to green. The sky was sprinkling a light snow fall, and the wind wasn't rowdy, and instead calm and still.

Pitch blanched, and then turned to sneer at a black cat batting at his hair. It looked at him dully, as if saying 'No need to put your anger on me, dude." and walked with its nose up into the nearby alley.

"Stupid cat," he hissed back, ignoring the fact that the feline had already gone.

Several hours he had to endure this: Dealing with only animals that could see him and watching April act so . . . so . . . _happy_ with her dad and not paying the slightest bit of attention to him.

How insulting!

How could she be so happy? Pitch was surprised she even recognized this man as her father, considering how long he seems to be out of her life at a time.

How many weeks fly by before April sees her male parent? Three? Four? Does she wait as the months just slip away? How many strangers has Mr. Darling paid to look after his own child?

These many questions, glossed over with his own, negative answers, made Pitch's black blood boiling hot.

He should have left the two on their little father-daughter date. April seemed too happy for him to bother. He could have spent his time doing something more useful elsewhere. But something stopped him; compelled him to stay nearby. Maybe it was because he didn't trust this man claiming the name of a father.

Whatever it was that kept him there, he decided not to question it. So he stood in the shadows, watching over them with the eye of a hunter.

A hunter? No. Pitch knew what it felt like to be a hunter; a predator ready to pop out for the fear-inducing kill. This feeling, one that left a welling lump in his chest, was different.

The sun had set and the two had made their way to an outside skating rink. It was surrounded by booths with food and tables. Christmas lights covered the surrounding half-walls in criss-cross formations and the ice was filled with humans of all ages.

"Stay here, my Flower," Mr. Darling said sweetly, much to Pitch's annoyance. "I'll get us some hot chocolate with marshmallows."

April nodded quickly and sat at a small round table with three seats. She swayed her head to the instrumental music of 'Jingle Bells' and kicked her feet back and forth.

Pitch took this chance to slide into the seat next to hear. Turning to him with the brightest smile he had ever seen, April waved one of her green mitten-covered hands.

"Hi, Nightlight!" She greeted.

He twisted his lips, not trusting himself to give a decent response. _What is wrong with me today?_

After a second of silence, April clucked her tongue and tilted her head. "What's a matter?" she asked. Pitch shrugged, his lips now pressing into a thin line.

"Nothing," he said stubbornly. "I just felt like coming to this particular area today and saw you. I thought about breaking the ice skating ground. Seems fun."

April slumped her shoulders. The corner of her lips dipped down into a pout as she looked at the dark king. "That's not nice," she muttered. "You can't do that!"

His eyes narrowed. "And why not?"

"_Cause_!" she squeaked. "What if somebody twipped and hurt their . . . their . . ." as if she were trying to find the right word for the body part, April held up her elbow and tapped it with her mitten-hand. "Their _arm-corner_."

"_Elbow_." Pitch automaticaly corrected, finding himself chuckling at the girls antics before shaking his head. "Foolish child, what does it matter to you?" A lot worse things could happen should the ice break, he thought.

April stuck her nose up, like saying, 'As a matter of fact . . .'

"When I came here with Kaylee once a time, I falled and my elbow was all purpley and blue. It was an ugly color!" She scrunched her nose at the memory, as if wondering why the human skin couldn't be prettier; like a sparkly pink or a cute button yellow when it bruised.

"And now you're here with your father, hm?" He said, looking back at the man who should have returned by now. It took Pitch a second to find him, but in that miniscule amount of time he briefly wondered with disgust if the man had left his daughter here. It was a thought he couldn't help, and he quickly pushed away what he felt as concern when he spotted Mr. Darling down by on of the booths, but not in line. Instead, he was holding a phone to his ear and chatting quickly, his expression tight.

With a glance back at April, Pitch cleared his throat. She seemed to be humming something in her mind because of the way she wiggled her head and shoulders from side to side. With another cough to gain her attention, Pitch laced his hands in front of him on the table and hunched close to her.

"What are you going to do if you can't go skating today?"

"Huh?" April looked back to where her father had run off. The moment she understood that he was having a long conversation with somebody on the phone, she frowned and slouched back into her chair.

He looked her in the eyes. The disappointment had always been there; it was surprising that he never noticed it before. Her legs now hung loosely off the edge of her seat, and her shoulder dropped. She scratched her head through the thick winter hat and took a deep breath.

"Well . . ." she started slowly. "Then we'll play again next time."

Pitch was always surprised by the girl's maturity, no matter how true-to-her-age she acted at times. Mr. Darling wasn't on the phone anymore. But with the look on his face, and turning away from the hot chocolate booth, April knew their father-daughter date was going to get cut short. Again.

* * *

_I must be mad_, Pitch thought bitterly as he stepped into this dream world for the second time. After his first visit, he vowed to never return to such a headache-inducing scenario. But here he was, dodging swimming fish from the air and stepping around (or missing) the animals chasing each other under his feet.

It was different from last time though. April's world was no longer colorful and wild. Instead, it was mixed with shades of blues and white. The sky above rippled in waves, crashing against the clouds and sprinkling the earth below with a peppermint-smelling snow. Each flake was shaped like flowers or rabbits.

_She really needs to find something better than these hopping fluffyballs. What ever happened to bears?_

"You're back."

The voice was April's. But Pitch knew that it wasn't. It was much too low and mature to be her's.

Internally he cringed. But outwardly, he let his disdain show.

"Don't look surprised, Black. I knew you would be."

"And how could you possibly know that?" Pitch spat. He turned to face the little girl who took the form of April. Instead of answer, she merely tilted her head and gave a one-sided smirk.

"She's over there, by the way." she said after no other response was given. The girl pointed East, and suddenly a scene appeared there that wasn't before. A large pond, surrounded by a few benches appeared. Sitting in one of those benches was a small figure, peering sadly into the water as she threw rocks into it.

Pitch didn't bother asking how the Guardian of April's consciousness knew why he was here. It wasn't worth the argument. Instead he consciously felt for the two pairs of skates hidden beneath his robes. One large and black, with white laces, the other small and pink.

considering that this was the dream world, Pitch didn't need to announce the reason for his presence. Instead he stubbornly stood next top the bench and looked at the floating rocks April had thrown into the pond.

Floating?

He took a closer look and was surprised to find that the pond was really a pond at all. It had no water, instead in swirled in a milky pit of blackness with stars. Yellow, red, and orange speckles of dust floated clockwise, creating the image of a galaxy in the ground. How peculiar. A sky of waves, like the ocean, and a pond of the skies.

More fish swam in the air by his face to which he swatted them away. Taking a deep breath, looking composed and not at all awed by the design of the little girl's mind, he cleared his throat.

"Are you wishing to skate?" he asked. April sat back and sighed.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Daddy had to go back to work."

He remembered how disappointed April was as the headed back home. How she dragged herself to her room, and how she plopped herself into bed and silently cried herself to sleep. Anger welled up from his stomach as Pitch thought of these images.

"You're father is a fool." He said darkly. April blinked up at him, surprised.

"He is." Pitch continued. "If he can't find the time to spend with his daughter, he should not have children at all."

He regretted the words as soon as he spoke them. Not because he spoke ill of April's father, but because he wasn't sure she would fully understand them. It sounded as if he said April shouldn't even exist at all.

"But, no matter!" He started again quickly, as not to let her dwell on his words. "We are here now and we will . . . skate."

He surprised even himself when he saw himself included in the little scenario played in his head.

"Really?" April brightened, beaming a too-happy smile at him.

"Yes, yes, really." He said, holding out his hands to keep her from bouncing up and down.

He snapped his fingers, and digging within April's memories, the pond grew and formed into a large outside-skating rink. The space-like image of the water still kept its design as it turned into ice, and as they moved across it the dust would move along with them. Like marble.

Shadows emerged from the ground up, taking the shape of April's young friends, and images of other random people to make the world more homey. Christmas music chimed from the trees, and even the animals sang in human chorus as they lined against the edge.

_Nonsense_, he told himself. _This is total nonsense. I really have gone mad_.

April nearly squealed in excitement as she took in the new world before her. Her face, previously dominated by sadness, now beamed with joy. Pitch looked at her and now saw the one glowing sun in the midst of this shadow-filled crowed.

_"Come on, April!" _A boy called out. A close friend from her memories, with dark hair and bright, _bright _blue eyes. She seemed very surprised to see him there, and gave Pitch a look as if she were asking permission.

He motioned to her feet, which were now covered with her pink ice skates and watched as she held on to his robes to keep her balance. She didn't need to - she could sprout wings and fly if she wished - but it seemed more out of instinct. Pitch didn't bother to correct her.

"What is the matter?" he asked as April curiously examined her new skates.

"They're pink," she said simply.

"Yes," Pitch rose an eyebrow, confused.

Shrugging her shoulders sheepishly, April looked up at him. "Can you make them gween?"

"Green?" he asked. "I thought you liked pink?"

"Gween is my favoritist color."

Her entire room is a chaotic pink mess.

"Daddy thinks I like pink 'cause it's girly, but I likes gween more."

Sighing, Pitch tilted his head to her shoes, indicating their change of color. With another high-pitch squeal that had the Nightmare King cringing and rubbing his ears, April jumped up straight on to the ice to join the other shadow-children resembling her friends.

Standing there for another minute, Pitch crossed his arms and looked on with a satisfied feeling in his stomach. Now there was a better image of April: smiling, laughing, and just having no care in the world around her.

He wasn't at all bothered by the lack of attention he received this time around. After all, why be envious of humans he could simply make disappear with the snap of his fingers?

April stopped in the middle of the frozen pond, scanning the outside for someone. As she caught his eye, another grin broke out on her little face and she waved excitedly. She then brought her hand out beckon him on the ice.

"Let's play, Nightlight!"

* * *

A/N: Awww, this story is almost halfway over! :'( But don't worry my loves! Pitch's adventures are long before over!

I hope you liked this chap, so please review!

_Next Chapter: Bonus - Fun_

_A sneak peak at April in daycare and how Pitch influences her life when he's not even there. April is trying to draw a picture of Pitch for Christmas and a little friend decides to help her out._


	11. BONUS - Fun

AN: Another unintentional bonus chapter! It was inspired when I was trying to write the **Hyper **chapter, but I got a little stuck on that one and this one gave me some good ideas on it. We get a sneak peek at April during daycare and how Pitch is affecting her life when he's not even there. I've tried to figure out how to get Zane into the story. It was actually supposed to be in the chapter 'Envious' but I decided that that chapter would be introducing April's dad.

This chapter is longer than usual, because I added a scene with Zane without meaning to (whoops) but oh well, it was fun, hahaha

I know some of you were looking forward to the chapter **Hyper** but I promise it'll be out in at least a day or so!

_**Special Thanks To:**_

**Satoshistar7 (Chapter 1)**

**MetaKnightRoxMySox**

**Abby-Flourite**

**Moonpie**

**Guest**

**Snickerdoodle22:** Awesomesauce? AWESOMESAUCE? Dude! I seriously thought I was the only person who says that! xD Because 'awesome' just doesn't seem to cut it anymore, hahaha!

**chocykitty:** Aww, thank you :)

**Pitch:** *stiffles giggles* Yes sir! *mock salute* (I'm basing April's speech and slight accent off of my four now-turned-five year old cousins, I'm glad it's working! :)

**Mystichawk**

**Peppercornpie**

**the One Named MoonLight:** Well, I try my best and I'm very, very happy to hear that you like my story so much! So much fluff, I never knew I'd enjoy writing it this much :3

* * *

_-x-_

_The Meaning of Fear_

_-x-_

* * *

**Bonus - Fun**

_Mondays are good, Tuesdays are the best! Wednesdays are the worstest!_

Tuesdays were always good days to go to daycare. It was off schedule, because usually April had a nanny during daddy-weeks, but Nanny had something to do this morning.

It was rare that April came to daycare on daddy-weeks, but sometimes her nannies had to take the mornings off because they had something called _uh-pint-mons_ (appointments). When it was mommy-week, she would spend Tuesday mornings making pancakes with smiley faces. But it's okay that she didn't today, because she liked Tuesdays at daycare.

Why? Because Jacob Anderson _never_ came on Tuesdays.

"H-Hi, April . . ." A boy stuttered as he approached her at the crayon station. April beamed up at him, the brightness catching him off guard and sent him stepping back nervously. She was drawing a picture with a black crayon. Funny, kids don't usually use the black crayon.

"Hi, Zane!" she greeted. "Good morning, isn't it?"

Zane gulped and let out a deep breath. April was always so pretty - and nice too! Not like those girls who always chased him and kept kissing him on the cheek in outside playground time. Those girls were scary . . . But not April. She made him very squeamish, but good at the same time. He was very happy to see her at daycare today. It had been a long time since she last came in the mornings. Like a billion years!

"I want to . . . I want to draw. I-I mean . . ." he gulped again. "Can I play?"

"You don't have to ask," April said simply, tilting her head. "I likes to play with Zane."

"Really?" He gasped, hopeful. She nodded and patted the chair next to her at the table.

April looked at the boy squirm a little as he sat down. Zane was weird, but she liked him. A lot of the girls in daycare liked to play with him because he was very nice, but for some reason he always ran away from them when they tried to hug him. So she made sure that she didn't hug him, because her mommy told her that some people didn't like hugs. And she didn't want Zane to not like her, of course.

She couldn't blame them though. His skin was soft and warm, like a giant teddy bear. She would sometimes hear the other kid's mommies call him a 'chubby-cutie'. And Zane had very pretty blue eyes - much prettier than stupid Jacob Anderson. She could stare at his eyes all day because they were like the shiny jewels. They were almost as shiny as her Nightlight's.

Zane took the red crayon and started coloring. After a few minutes, April stopped to see what her friend was drawing - a monster with razor-sharp teeth and spikes on his back. He had yellow laser beams coming out from his eyes and was eating a blue book.

"Wow! You drawed really good! What is it?"

Zane blushed and covered his paper with his arms. No, she wasn't supposed to look at it yet! He wasn't done!

"Um . . . i-it's a really cool monster. He lives under my bed."

"A monster lived under your bed?" April paused her drawing again and looked down at her paper. Her picture of Nightlight wasn't very handsome; she couldn't draw like Zane could.

She did remember hearing her Nightlight talk about monsters under her bed. What did he say? Something about letting them eat her?

_"That's not nice!"_ she had said. It was something she was saying a lot to her Nightlight, actually. He could be quite mean sometimes. The monsters could get sick if they ate her! She's not a vegetable and not eating your veggies could make you sick. At least, that's what her really soft-speaking nanny said. But then again, that Nanny wore weird clothes and earings and was always talking about saving the trees and the Earth. She liked to braid April's hair into low piggytails.

_Silly_, she had thought. _You can't save the dirt, it would make messes in the house! Then Sebby would get really mad._

"My brother's told me that a monster lived under my bed and ate my coloring books. That's why they always go missing."

"Oh," Monsters eat coloring books? She didn't believe it.

"They also said I have monsters in my closet."

"Your closet?" How are you able to live in a closet? There's no bed to sleep in there! At least, living under a bed meant you have a bed to sleep upside down in. Like a bat! But then again, she did meet her Nightlight in her closet.

Did that make her Nightlight a monster? April didn't know a lot about monsters. She saw movies with them, but they were funny and liked to climb up really tall towers. Sometimes they would make really loud noises and April would cringe. What about Reptar from _Rugrats_? Was he a monster too?

April shook her head as Zane tapped her shoulder. "Are you okay?" he asked. "Did I scare you with my monster story?"

Again, with that word! She wasn't screaming, like other people did when they were 'scared'. So why would he think she would be _scared_? She didn't even know what that meant!

Deciding not to complicate things by asking questions, April straightened herself and said, "No," with confidence.

"My Nightlight lives in my closet too. But he isn't loud and _ob-no-scious_ like the monsters on tv, so I don't think he is a monster."

Zane tilted his head and set his crayon down on the table. Nightlight?

"You put your nightlight in your closet? What good is it in there? How can you keep the evil monsters away if it's in your closet?"

April rolled her eyes with a small shake of her head again. "No _silly_. Nightlight is a _people_. I named him that because he has really, really, shiny gold eyes. But his real name is Pitch Black."

Sudden fear washed over Zane. His body felt like it had been dunked in a bucket of cold water.

"P-Pitch Black? Like . . . Like the boogeyman? He's not a nightlight at all!"

She leaned in close, her eyes narrowing. "Pitch Black. That's what _you_ have to call him. Only _I_ am allowed to call him Nightlight."

Zane gulped and April caught his sleeve to stop him from shaking in his seat.

"My brother's told me about Pitch Black! They told me he was the evilest, most scariest monster in the whole wide world! He makes the monsters under my bed eat my crayons!"

That's ridiculous! April thought to herself as she folded her arms. None of _her_ crayons or coloring books went missing.

"Then your brothers are big, fat liars." She said a matter-of-factly. "I think _they're_ the ones stealing your things. A monster can't eat them because then they will get a tummy-ache."

Zane was about to shout at April that his brothers would do no such thing. But then he stopped, because 1.) He didn't want to fight with the nicest, most prettiest girl in daycare, and 2.) Now that he thought about it, it did seem like something his brothers would do. They loved to pick on him.

"Oh, well . . ." he let out a calming breath and slumped in his chair. He picked up his red crayon and peered over at April's drawing, wich she was starting to finish up.

"I ought to give them a piece of my mind!" She said angrily.

'You're going to throw your brain at them?" Zane asked confused. It was funny imagining April throwing her brain at her brothers - especially Zander because he hated gooey things - but wouldn't that hurt?

"No," April rolled her eyes. "My mommy says that before she starts to yell on the phone. I don't really know what it means though."

"Oh . . ."

After a few minutes, Zane watched as April crumpled up her paper and threw it away from her.

"Gosh darn it!" She huffed before slamming her fists on the table, making it shake.

"Wh-What's wrong?" he asked. April sat back in her chair and folded her arms again.

"I can't draw as good as you." she said with a frown. Zane saw that she was really frustrated and felt his heart stop when tears started to brim at her eyes.

"D-Don't cry, it's okay!" he said quickly. "You just need more practice! That's all! My sister says that 'Practice makes perfect!'" Whatever that means.

"But, but I want to give Nightlight a really good coloring because he's always doing nice stuff for me! And if it's bad I'm-I'm afraid he won't like it."

Now that just can't happen! Zane thought, determined. April wasn't allowed to be sad, because then he would be sad. Picking up another black crayon, though this one was much pointier then the one April had, Zane got a clean piece of paper and cleared his throat.

" Is . . . is Nightlight really important to you?"

She nodded and rubbed her eyes. "Yup! He's my bestest friend in the whole wide world!"

Zane deflated. He decided that he didn't like this Nightlight very much. Thinking about him made his blood boil and his heart clench. However, it made April really happy, so puffing up with what his brothers would call 'man-pride' - or at least, that's what he thinks he was doing - Zane gave April another piece of paper.

"Then, then I have no choice but to help you!" he coughed and set his crayon on his paper. "You tell me what Night - I mean, Pitch Black looks like, and I'll draw him bit by bit. And you can copy me."

April lit up, her brightness catching Zane off guard again. Gosh, she had such a pretty smile.

"Really?" She gleamed.

He nodded. "Uh, y-yup! What does, what does he look like?"

It probably wasn't anything like she was going to describe, but Zane couldn't help but imagine a large, gurgle monster with red eyes and rotten teeth. He wasn't scary so much as _ugly_, and for the moment Zane couldn't help but wonder what this Nightlight had that he didn't.

April tilted her head in thought. "Well, he has really long and spiky black hair. Like a porcupine!"

Zane secretly frowned and started drawing the hair. When he finished, April was too busy copying his movements to notice him blow his bangs out of his eyes with a scowl.

_I have dark hair._ He thought bitterly. _It's not black or spiky, but it's darker than all the other boys in daycare . . ._

"His skin is grey, and his chin is narrow and pointy. He also wears a really long, black, dress-looking thing. Nightlight said it's called a _robe_, but I still think it's a dress." April held her nose high up as she closed her eyes to remember. Nightlight was so funny sometimes, but he was most definitely wearing a dress.

Zane tried to hold back a snort and looked down at his own attire. He was wearing jeans and a green pullover (like April's eyes). He was not, repeat NOT wearing a dress. Never, ever, ever, ever! Not in a billion, zillion, years!

"He also has really long arms - like spaghetti! And his hands have long, bone-y fingers. He reminds me of Jack Skelly-ton from that one movie. But like, a really old version."

Zane couldn't help the sly grin grow on his face. It was an expression his brothers used when they were amused with something, but he never noticed how much he looked like them. He felt smug at the ridiculous image of Nightlight, despite it actually looking quite nice on paper.

* * *

Hanging out in his old lair, Pitch Black's fist clenched as sudden anger welled up in his chest. For some reason, he felt like punching something. Was someone talking bad about him?

Hopping off the globe, Pitch grumbled to himself and kicked one of the cages that fell from the ceiling.

"Stupid Jack Frost." he growled. "Making a fool out of me, I just know it."

When was April getting out of daycare? He still had his new trick up his sleeve and he wanted to try it out as soon as possible. She was much too happy with him these days.

* * *

That night Zane got tucked into bed by his mother, who then went to chase after her troublesome twin boys running up and down the hallways. Little did she know that they managed to slip into his small bedroom after a few minutes. He could hear their giggles as they hid behind his door.

Sitting up, Zane thought angrily at the possibility that his brothers were the ones tricking him and taking his books.

"I'm trying to sleep!" the five-year old said.

"Oh calm down, you grumpy." Alec said, poking his head out from behind the door. Zander followed soon after.

"Yeah, or else you'll turn into a fearling for the boogeyman!"

"He won't turn me into a monster!" Zane said stubbornly. Alec and Zander rose an eyebrow at each other. That was odd, Zane usually got scared out of his wits when they mentioned the boogeyman.

"How do you know?" Alec teased. He made his way to Zane's bed and plopped on top of it. Zane coiled into his sheets, but kept his glare.

"Um . . . B-because . . ."

"Exactly,"

Zander, who wasn't as flighty as his older twin, merely stood beside the bed. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "You don't know. The boogeyman is known as one of the most fearsome creatures. No one knows what he'll do next."

Alec rolled his eyes and twisted on his stomach. "So, Zanny, what makes you think any different? I thought eating your coloring books and crayons was proof enough." Zane didn't miss the _look_ the twins gave each other.

He gulped and held his blanket above his nose. April was right! They _were_ lying to him. Monsters didn't eat his books! His eyes narrowed at this new discovery. These little - He got grounded for 'losing' his things, so father refused to buy them anymore. But this whole time, these brats have been taking them!

Little did the older boys know that Zane did not lack the trickster gene.

He faked a shiver. "Because . . . because my friend April told me so! She said that monsters wouldn't eat my stuff! And she knows lots more than you because she's friends with the boogeyman!"

Whoops, that last part wasn't supposed to come out. Zane clasped both hands over his mouth with a horrified eyes.

What if they make fun of her now? What if they thought that they made everything up, and were now going to tease April about it sometime in the future.

He had to fix this.

Alec and Zander gave each other another look, not even attempting to be discreet

"You have a friend -"

" - A _girl _friend -"

"- who is friends -"

"- with -"

"- _The Boogieman?"_ They asked this bit in unison. Zane cursed himself for this mistake and nodded.

Direct them to something else. "And I'm going to prove it to you! I hid some of my last coloring book from the living room in my sock drawer. You'll see! They'll be there tomorrow for sure!"

Alec whistled lowly, feigning an understanding nod and motioning to Zander with his head towards the door.

"Gee, you could be right, lil' bro."

Zander took off his glasses to clean them with his shirt. "Yup. It's highly possible that -"

" - you merely lost your books -"

" - and a monster couldn't have eaten them -"

" - so in that case, we -"

"- were -"

"- Wrong." The boys finished off in unison again and slowly backed towards Zane's door. The younger sibling stuck his tongue out at his brothers and flipped his blanket over his side. They were mocking him now. He just knew it!

But just wait . . .

* * *

Deeper into that night, a horrified scream erupted from the house.

"GET IT OFF, GET IT OFF, GET IT OFF!"

"AHAHAHAHA!"

"ALEC YOU IDJIT, HELP ME!"

"EW, HAHAHAHA, NO, HAHA, I'M NOT TOUCHING, PFFT BWAHAHA, THAT THING!"

Alec was on the ground, holding his stomach as he erupted with more laughter and Zander ran around the room, tripping over various toys laying about on the ground. Through the dark, Zane felt for his bedside lamp and flipped the switch; a wide smile graced his lips as he took the scene in before him.

A fake, but realistic looking spider stuck on the small face of the younger twin. A green goo oozed from the spiders legs, indicating its stick and how it had yet to fall from the boy's face.

Loud footsteps emerged from the hallway, telling the three boys that their parents were on their way. Even though he was going to get into heeps of trouble, Zane couldn't have felt more proud of himself. In fact, he understood why his brothers were always pulling pranks like these. It was actually kind of _fun_!

But just to make sure . . .

He reached over the foot of his bed and felt the ground. He stopped once his hands caught the feeling of paper between his fingers and slowly plucked it out from under the bedframe.

There it was, his last coloring book in tip-top shape. Not a bite out of it.

He didn't see the yellow eyes peering out from under his bed. _How clever,_ the owner of those eyes thought with a smirk.

Pitch was mildly impressed.

* * *

A/N: Hello~ It's been a little while, my bad, hahaha. I know this chapter was supposed to be about April getting hyped up on sweets and annoying Pitch, but I thought this was cute and decided to post it before then. Now that Zane is introduced a little (haha, a little . . .) he'll come in much later unless I get hit with another idea again.

So, please review and tell me what you think! Who knows, if I get a certain secret amount of reviews quickly I may post the already written next chapter sooner than I plan, *evil laugh*


	12. Hyper

AN: I was supposed to have this out a forever ago but I suddenly got really busy, my cousins took over my laptop to watch movies and I wanted to rewrite this chapter 'cuz I wasn't happy with it and bleh, chaos.

_**Special Thanks To:**_

**Mystichawk:** Aww, I'm glad you like Zane! I was very hesitant about him because I know too many Oc's kinda make the story go all, bleh (but he does have some importance, heeheehee) Zane did the spider bit, Pitch was just watching. This is almost three years after Nightmare war, and takes place in Sleepy Hollow, New York (Or White Plains when April is with her mom) I tried my best with research in this story on places. Sophie and Jamie live in the fictional village of Burgess in Pennsylvania. I'm going to have a little fun with this in the future, heehee

**Pyro-9-3**: Really? Wow, thank you!

**chocykitty**

**The One Named Moonlight**

**Guest: **Ha! Clever, very clever!

**Xion5**

**muggleborn. dragon. ryder**

**Pitch**: Me? Why I would _never_! xD Well, Pitch was sort of in it at the end, more like a cameo though, lol but I'm glad you still liked it!

* * *

_-x-_

_The Meaning of Fear_

_-x-_

* * *

**Hyper**

_"I scream! You scream! We all scream for ice cream!"_

Pitch came to this unsightly scene on a Tuesday night after April had gotten out of daycare. He figured that the chaotic morning dealing with snot-nosed brats with far inferior intellect compared to April would have exhausted her by the time he arrived.

He was wrong.

"I-It's time to go to bed, sweetie," The new, and for once, American, nanny pleaded as she attempted to tuck the four-year-old into bed.

"NO! I wanna play! Can we play, Nanny? I like playing! Let's eat more cho-co treats!"

"I'm sorry but you're going to have to - HEY!"

April slipped from under her blankets and off the side of her bed. Ducking under the nanny's hand, who swiped for her arm to grab, April took off out her bedroom door.

Pitch hadyet to be noticed, but he couldn't help but watch, amused, as some crashing noises, stomped running, and the whine of a cat they didn't have made its way up and down the hallway. Finally, with a struggling four-year-old in her arms, the nanny dragged herself into the bedroom and dropped her back on the bed.

"Okay! Bedtime!" She said with a cracking smile. Pitch chuckled, and brought his knuckles to his mouth in attempts to muffle his oncoming laughter. The ends of her light, blonde hair were now sticking up in every direction of her bun. Her eyes had dark rings under it and several stains of who-knows-what kind of food decorated her blouse and jeans.

April giggled as the nanny gave an irritated huff. Before she could slip off the bed and out her door again, however, the nanny had leaped away like a cat out of water and slammed the door shut.

Knowing that she was too small to reach the handle, but seeming to giggle too much to care, April rolled in her bed and caught sight of her favorite spikey-haired spirit.

"Hai~!" She greeted, hanging half of her body off the side of her bed.

A red alarm rung loudly in the back of Pitch's mind. He felt that he should greet and then leave now while he had the chance. But the treats he still held in his pocket . . . he was too curious to see if such a simple thing would get a reaction out of the girl.

Composing himself, for he still held the slightest smile on his stone face, Pitch cleared his throat and held his hands behind his back. "Evening," he said all too formally.

* * *

"AHHHHH!" April screamed as she continued to jump on her bed and throw various toys of all shapes and sizes at Pitch.

He ducked out-of-the-way of a rubber duck, and took a grateful note of the loud squeak that followed from the yellow toy.

This child could _throw_.

"Nightlight! Nightlight! Let's watch Mr. Sue! Mr. Sue! I like Mr. Sue, do you?" Followed by a wild jump and crashing to her floor - which Pitch had thankfully covered with pillows; this hadn't been her first attempt to dive - April rolled on the ground and latched on to his robe before he could escape.

For over an hour he'd had to endure this. Pitch Black had made many mistakes in his life - one involving the day he woke this mad child from her nap and suffered her wrath. But the last thing this child needed was _more _sweets.

"I LOVE YOU! YOU LOVE ME! WE'RE A HA-PPY FA-MA-LY - WITH A GREAT BIG HUG AND A KISS FROM ME TO YOU!"

It was an innocent theory he wished to test out. The one time he had seen this little girl cower was in her dream world, locked inside that darkened room and begging for something to eat. He had visited that place once before, each painful cry sending an ache to his chest. Upon further investigation, the wrappers of the candy April was denied by the other child was laced in something metallic and foul. Poison? Possibly. Pitch had made a face when he tasted the inside of the wrappers.

If the children had eaten the infected sweets, they would have gotten very ill if not given the proper help in a length of time. And it was only there in her memory because April ate some despite her warnings.

Now, years later, would April unconsciously heed the mystery child's words and refuse to eat any kind of wrapped candy? Would she spike with fear, and flashback to that frightening terror in her little life in the darkened room?

Pitch expected _some_ kind of reaction when he cautiously held out the wrapped goodies to a bouncing April on her bed. She had stopped immediately, and tilted her had at the pink and red candies in his hands.

"Is that for me?" she asked softly. Pitch had allowed himself a sly smile.

"Yes. If you don't hurry and eat them, I may just take them for myself." And, as if to prove his point, Pitch ate a single candy. He tried his best not to show his distaste, for he did not prefer the sweet, hard type of confections. Dark chocolate was more his area.

April looked up at him with narrow eyes, and before he could process what was to happen next, she had snatched the candies out of his hand and zoomed past to slide under her bed.

"NO!" she yelled. "My candy!"

Blinking not once, not twice, but several times to make sure what had just happened, happened, Pitch slowly bent to peer under the bed.

There April was, grinning and giggling like a mad person as she unwrapped the sweet goodies and popped them in her mouth one at a time.

_That . . . was not the reaction I had expected . . ._

Greatly disappointed, Pitch slumped his shoulders and stalked to the window, intending to leave. Just as fast as she had disappeared, April's little hands had slammed the two-inch open window shut and locked it.

"No! Don't leave!" She said quickly. Pitch was about to scold her; scold her for ruining his expectations in her cowering before the disgusting sugar treats and demand that she never order him around again. A threat was to follow, considering April's attitude and the puffed-cheeks look she gave him.

"Put on movie first! Movie first! Movie first!"

Taking a deep, agitated breath, Pitch leveled with April.

"You have become too comfortable around me!" He hissed. April merely bounced on her toes, and grasped his robe with her little hands.

"Please! Please! Please! Please! Put on Mr. Sue! Put on Mr. Sue!"

_Just put in the stupid movie and you can leave. _he told himself. Sighing, he dragged his feet across the carpeted floor until he stood in front of the movie shelf.

"There is no such movie of Mr. Sue," he said through gritted teeth.

But April didn't pay attention. Instead, she was crouching low, with her hands curled in front of her as she cornered a fly. Just when Pitch was about to ask the mad child what she was doing, she leaped into the air and cupped her hands on the ground to capture her invisible prey.

"I got it! I got it! I-" She checked her hands and glowered. "Missed it."

Pitch inched towards the window until April caught him again.

"LETS PLAY ONE HUNDWED AND ONES THINGS TO DO IN ONE NIGHT!" She screeched, her tiny fists in an iron grip as Pitch carefully tried to pry her hands off.

"No." He deadpanned. "I am going to take my leave and when you calm yourself we will speak then."

Her face twisted into an expression that was a far cry from her smiles and laughter. For some reason, Pitch found himself shrinking with guilt from the pressure.

He sighed to himself.

* * *

"The cup is empty! What tea am I supposed to be drinking?" Pitch seethed, just wondering how exactly he got himself into this situation. April fluffed the feather boa around her neck and tilted her pink sun-hat. Pitch huffed angrily to himself as he copied her actions, and considered choking himself with the fluffy menace around his own neck.

If anyone outside of the room saw him now, he'd probably die from humiliation. His spiky hair was topped with a pink and purple hat that was about two feet in diameter, and sunglasses consistently slipped from his large nose because of their child-like size. He had to stop from further foolishness by convincing April that the diamond high-heels of plastic death just didn't match his outfit.

"It's called pretend, _silly_!" April sang as she bounced in her chair, knocking over the other beanie-baby 'guests' and other plastic tea-party sets on the table.

"Now put your pinky up when you drink your tea! Or you have to go sit in the time out table and eat yucky veggie tables!"

"_Vegetables_," Pitch corrected. April huffed and pointed to the corner table with fake food on its plate.

"NO SUPPER FOR YOU!"

* * *

"Foolish child, get down from there _now_ or you shall risk wounding yourself from the fall!" Pitch gulped as April hung from the curtains decorating her window.

"NEVERRR!" she screamed, holding a flittering wand with a large star tip above her head. "I won't fall for your pirate tricks, Captain Underpants! You can't get my fairies dust! _WIND-GOOD-DUM LEVI _O_ SAAAA!"_

* * *

Pitch slammed the book in his hands shut. "Stop your crawling this instant! I can not tell you the adventures of this _Lie-lo_ and Stitch if you continue to play around!"

April poked her head out from under the bed. "I dun wanna read anymore! Lets play tag!"

An angry but controlled growl erupted from the Nightmare King's throat.

* * *

"Errrah!"

Pitch twitched. As April lay on her bed, half her body hanging off the edge, an annoying, inhuman like sound proceeded to make it's way with her voice as she stared up at the ceiling. Her mouth would open quickly and shut soon afterwards, followed by a few giggles because it seemed to amuse her.

After various games the child had tortured him through, it was the quietest she had ever been over the past few hours. So Pitch was grateful during the first few minutes. But now, it just made him twitch and cringe because it was beginning to annoy him.

"Errrrah!" April laughed to herself.

The television was playing a ridiculous cartoon of a green furry man stealing Christmas presents. It was when he turned on themovie did he find April's earlier command for a _Mr. Sue_ movie to be _Dr. Seuss._ He knew of the character, the Grinch, he was called, because of a past nightmare another child had who feared of the monster eating his Christmas presents.

He would never admit it out loud, but he quite enjoyed the movie as he watched it for the first time - that is, until this Dr. Seuss ruined it and made the Grinch turn nice and give all the presents and food back.

That little girl in pink, that Cindy Lou Who, or whatever her name was, melted that villain's heart so easily; such thing would never have happened in real life.

Were movies like this the reason the Boogeyman's name was quickly losing it's frightening light? What force of nature could do that to a creature such as himself? Why would any evil being allow themselves to be captured by the eyes of such a weak, uncultured human?

It was quiet. Too quiet.

His breathing halted as he felt an unfamiliar weight on his chest, and his body shook as he glanced at the little girl sleeping soundly.

He blinked once. Twice.

Did this brat just fall asleep on him!?

When did she get there?

How did she get there?

She slipped past his senses so easily, and now she dare sleep peacefully on the Nightmare King without a care in the world?

The urge to scream, and wake the child got caught in his throat. She looked so comfortable. This tiny girl had caused him nothing but trouble since he's met her, and made him play in such humiliating activities all night!

But his body was too frozen from shock to move. His mind was spinning and he didn't have a darn thing to say! And it irritated him to no end!

He could feel her soft heart beat thump against his chest, and her body's light warmth contrasted against the cold grey of his own. How could she be comfortable, even lying near the Nightmare King, much less deciding to use him as her bed?

He let out a long breath, and carefully brushed down the blonde curls from her face.

_If I move, she may wake up. _He thought. He really didn't want to go through her games again.

There was nothing wrong with her sleeping here a little while longer. It wasn't like he had any place to be.

And for once, because no one was there, Pitch let the smallest smile grace his lips for the second time that night.

"Oh great, now she's drooling on me!"

* * *

A/N: Terribly sorry about the long wait, which isn't usual for this story! And after I promised to update it sooner than usual too! And I did the opposite! Urrrgh! I'll try and make sure that won't happen again!

So please review, tell me what you think! I hope the amounts of cuteness made up for it :)


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